Whenever You're Ready
by ForForever19
Summary: 'If anyone were to ask Quinn Fabray just what she was thinking, she'd be unable to answer. She wasn't thinking, maybe, because even she can't bring herself to rationalise just what possesses her to kidnap someone else's children. God. She's pretty sure she's just committed a felony.' Multi-Chapter Future AU.
1. I

**Disclaimer:** I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**AN:** Happy New Year, good people! I hope 2020 is treating you well so far. While my intention was to update all my ongoing stories when I got back, I was kind of struck by some inescapable and unavoidable Mom!Quinn feels, and so here we are. The initial idea comes from a handful of places, I suspect, but I've taken it and run with it. Worry not, though, because other updates on my WIPs are on the way. They probably won't be as regular as in the past, because I REALLY need to graduate, but I promise nothing is ever going to be abandoned. Feel free to talk to me on Twitter if I disappear for too long, though - this is explicit permission. Cool. Please enjoy.

* * *

**I**

If anyone were to ask Quinn Fabray just what she was thinking, she'd be unable to answer.

She _wasn't_ thinking, maybe, because even she can't bring herself to rationalise just what possesses her to kidnap someone else's children.

God.

She's pretty sure she's just committed a felony.

* * *

The day, itself, starts off as normally as it possibly can.

Quinn is new to town, just moved into a house she inherited from her recently-passed grandmother, who decided to stick it to her own family and leave Quinn the sole beneficiary of her world's possessions.

Quinn met her a handful of times when she was still a child, but their relationship really solidified itself once Quinn left home - well, was _forced_ to leave home.

Now, it seems Quinn has lost the only family willing to accept her.

Well.

The only family _older_ than her.

Quinn is woken, quite unceremoniously, by her two housemates. Sasha, a German Shepard with far too much energy, and Lex, a golden boy with even more bluster.

Quinn is practically smothered in her own bed by the two wriggling beasts, and she actually has to fight them off before she suffocates. Her alarm hasn't even gone off yet, and she really doesn't want to die before she's had a chance to enjoy her morning coffee.

"Mommy, Mom, Mom," Lex practically shouts in her ear. "Wake up, wake up, wake up."

Quinn reaches blindly to cover his mouth with her hand and push him away, but she ends up with dog slobber all over her palm instead.

Of course.

Lex laughs, loud and joyous, and Quinn can't even bring herself to be mad.

"Get off me, you ogre," Quinn grumbles, rolling over and taking her two beasts with her. Sasha ends up on the floor, and Lex dangles off the edge of the California King bed, his laughter multiplied.

"Mommy, no!"

Quinn reaches for him, tickling at his sides until he, too, ends up dumped on the floor with a thud. She panics for just a beat, before he bounces up, smiles toothily at her and says, "You promised me pancakes."

She sighs. "Lex, it's barely seven in the morning."

"You promised."

"We don't even have ingredients for pancakes."

"Then you have to go shopping."

"Me?"

"I'm staying with Sash."

"Like hell you are," she says, forcing herself into a sitting position.

Lex positively beams at her. "That's a dollar in the swear jar," he says, sounding far too excited for this early in the morning. She's always wondered if he's really her son, because she sure as hell isn't a morning person. Not even a little bit.

"Yeah yeah," she says, waving him off. "I've already started on your college fund, it seems." It's a joke she makes, but she's actually already had that particular fund going since those two lines appeared on a terrifying pregnancy test almost eight years ago.

This probably isn't the future she imagined for herself as a teenager, but she wouldn't have it any other way. Lex is everything.

"Mom," he whines. "Pancakes."

Quinn rolls onto her back and groans loudly.

"Please."

She won't deny him, of course, but she's determined to teach him patience. "Mommy needs to shower first," she eventually says. "Think you can switch on the coffee machine for me and entertain yourself with cartoons while you wait?"

Lex seems to consider it. "And then pancakes?"

"And then we'll go _out_ for pancakes," she assures him. "And stop at the grocery store on the way back."

"Okay," he says, looking serious.

"Start a list," she instructs. He might be the man of the house, but she tries her best to involve him in domestic things that are stereotypically tailored towards girls as much as possible. Quinn definitely said _fuck you_ to gender roles a long time ago.

Lex does a little excited jump, and then bolts from the room, Sasha hot on his tail. Quinn can hear their steps on the wooden floors, and she can't help her wince when she hears a heavy thud a beat later.

"I'm fine!" Lex yells out, and Quinn laughs to herself as she forces herself out of bed and stumbles towards her ensuite.

This house is larger than anything they've lived in before, and she's still getting used to it. Switching from Connecticut to Ohio wasn't ever truly on her list of life moves, but it seemed like the time. After the year she and Lex have had, she knew they needed a change, and her grandmother provided her the opportunity.

Quinn rushes through a shower, not wanting to make Lex wait too long. She's learned the quickest ways to get clean since having a child, but it's a relief to have him old enough that she can leave him in a different room and actually focus on her self-care without worrying too much.

Once she's done, she throws on some denim shorts and an old Panic! At the Disco t-shirt with some open sandals. She leaves her hair loose, wanting it to air-dry while they're out and about. Lex always seems to like the way it curls when she does, tucking himself into her body and playing with the strands at the end of a long day.

Quinn passes through the kitchen to get a cup of coffee before she follows the sound of laughter into the living room. One of the things she's going to have to get used to in this older home is the lack of open-plan living. She's so used to being able to see Lex whenever she's in the kitchen.

Well.

Maybe she'll consider a renovation project once she meets her latest deadline.

Quinn leans against the doorframe and watches Lex laugh himself silly at something on the television screen, his left hand absently scratching the top of Sasha's head.

"Hey, Baby Shark," she calls out, and he spins around fast enough that she's worried he'll give himself whiplash.

Lex grins at her, and then lets out a roar as he jumps to his feet. "Mommy, can we go now?"

She nods once. "Is that what you're wearing?" she asks, looking at the outfit he's chosen for the day. It's her favourite part, really, getting to witness the person he's growing into. She allows him to pick his clothing - within reason - and his sense of style is rather similar to hers.

Poor guy.

Lex looks down at himself: khaki shorts and a black _Hulk_ t-shirt. He's currently barefoot, but that's a problem easily fixed. "Yes," he declares a moment later.

"Teeth brushed?" she asks.

Lex nods, beaming to show her his pearly-whites. "Minty fresh."

Quinn loves him so. "Okay, okay," she says. "Get your shoes on, make sure Sash has some food, and I'll meet you at the front door, okay?"

"Okay," he says, and then practically sprints from the room.

Quinn chuckles to herself, and then looks at Sasha, who's comfortably draped on the carpet. "Come on, girl," she says. "Let's get you out to do your business before we head out."

Quinn knows she's going to have to install a dog flap in the next few days, just to give Sasha some freedom. They're all still getting used to the house, so she knows she's going to have to keep an eye on how their dog adjusts.

How Lex adjusts.

How _she_ adjusts.

Sasha is usually good about doing her business, and their backyard is large and sparse. Quinn's sure Sasha's going to love it once she has the opportunity to explore. Maybe in the afternoon.

Quinn rinses her coffee cup once she's done, and then gathers her keys and purse before waiting at the front door. One sweep of the front room and dining room tells her they still have quite a few boxes to unpack.

In general, they don't have nearly enough stuff to fill the house, but it helped that there was already furniture for them, even if Quinn donated most of it.

She's in the middle of planning out the changes she wants to make to the house - just to put her stamp on it - when Lex comes shooting down the stairs.

"Slow down, Kiddo," she automatically says, not wanting another trip to the Emergency Room. She's not even entirely sure where it is, which is something she should probably rectify.

Lex skids to a stop in front of her, a SnapBack on his head and his feet in a black pair of _Converse_. "Officer Alexander Lucas Fabray, reporting for duty," he says dramatically, saluting.

Quinn laughs. "Where's the list, Officer Fabray?" she asks.

His eyes widen and he squeaks, rushing off again. God, she has no idea where he gets the energy. She's pretty sure her coffee hasn't yet kicked in for her. Still, he's back in less than a minute, a piece of paper in his hand.

"Thank you, kind sir," she says, taking it from him and studying it.

_Captain Crunch, Milk, Skittles, Coffee for Mommy, More Milk, Popcorn, Pizza, Soap_.

Did she mention how much she loves her baby boy?

"It's a good start," she says, opening the front door and waving him through. "You just forgot all the vegetables."

He gives her a look that is pure mischief. "Pizza has vegetables."

Well, he's not wrong there.

Quinn's lucky to have a two-car garage, but her second car isn't arriving for at least another month when her friends from New Haven are scheduled to pay a visit. Not that Quinn thinks she would even be using the garage, or the car.

Now, though, her practical _Volvo SC90_ is parked in the driveway, where it's been since they got into Lima two days ago.

Lex knows not to question her about sitting in the backseat, so getting on the road is smooth. She switches on the radio, and they sing along to random songs as she drives through a town she's visited only twice in her life. Once as a child, and again for her grandmother's will reading - which, admittedly, was an entire experience all in itself.

It seems different now.

"We're going to have to go exploring soon," Quinn tells Lex, passing by what looks like a bowling alley. She's going to have to learn what things people can do for fun here, because even she knows she's not enough to keep her son entertained for hours on end.

"Tomorrow?" he asks hopefully.

"As long as you don't wake me this early," she teases.

"Promise?"

Promises are always so serious when it comes to her son, and she's always done her best to keep them. "I promise."

Lex falls silent then, and Quinn glances at him through her rearview mirror. She hopes he's not remembering the last person who made a promise to him. Today is supposed to be a good day.

Quinn pulls into the first diner's parking lot she sees a few minutes later, eyeing the sign with a small smile. Rose's Diner. "This look okay?" she asks Lex.

"As long as they have pancakes."

Quinn opens her door. "Let's check it out, then."

* * *

They have pancakes.

And bacon.

And lots of maple syrup.

It's really the perfect breakfast, and Lex is back to his animated self within minutes. Quinn eighty-sixes the milkshake, but he gets a glass of milk to her coffee, and he's suitably pleased, even giving himself a milk moustache.

Their waitress, Marley, takes a liking to him from the moment he says he likes her peace sign earrings. Quinn always tells him it's okay to hand out compliments and let people know what he likes about them, because there's nothing wrong with spreading positivity. He's taken it to heart, it seems, and he even gets an extra pancake for his troubles.

Quinn checks _Google_ for the nearest grocery store, but ends up asking Marley where the best place to go for buying in bulk is. She's planning on stocking up the pantry with all the essentials, and Marley points her in the right direction.

"My mom usually gets whatever we need here from there," Marley says, smiling warmly.

"This is your mom's place?" Lex asks, bouncing in his seat.

Marley nods.

"Is she the chef?"

"The one and only."

"Awesome," he says in wonder.

Quinn looks from him to Marley. "Well, our compliments to the chef," she says. "I'm sure we'll be back."

"We tend to have a few theme nights," Marley says. "Monday is a two-for-one burger, and Wednesday is pie night, if you're interested in trying those out. Every second Thursday is an open mic, as well, which is always good fun."

"We'll definitely check them out," Quinn says. "We're new to town, so we're looking to see what things we can get up to before the rat starts school in September."

Marley's smile grows. "Welcome to Lima," she says. "How are you liking it so far?"

Quinn puffs out a breath. "It's going well," she says. "But, then again, it's been only two days, so anything could happen."

"I like it," Lex says, putting the last of his pancakes in his mouth. "It's warmer than New Haven."

Marley's eyebrows rise. "You're from out of state?"

Quinn nods slowly, not really comfortable with divulging too much about their lives to a stranger. "It's definitely smaller here."

"It'll grow on you," Marley assures. "If you're looking for stuff to do, I can probably put a list together for you," she offers a moment later.

"Oh, you don't have to - "

"I want to," Marley interrupts gently. "You can just stop by here for some pie tonight, and you'll get a super fun list as a bonus."

Quinn laughs. "Does your mom know you're such a good marketer?"

Marley's smile fades a little, but Quinn says nothing about it. "Make sure you let her know," she jokes, and then startles when a customer calls for her from across the diner. "I should get to that," she says.

"Of course," Quinn says, and then glances at Lex's empty plate. "Can we please get the check whenever you're ready?"

"I'll get right on it," Marley says, and then leaves them to it.

Quinn looks at Lex. "Satisfied?" she asks.

He nods vigorously, dramatically rubbing his tummy. "They were so good, Mommy."

"Better than mine?"

Lex gives it some serious thought before he shakes his head. "Not better," he finally says. "Just, different."

What a little politician, ever the diplomat.

When they're ready to go - Quinn leaving Marley a tip large enough to make her blush - Lex asks the teenager if he can give her a hug, and she looks startled by the question.

"Consent is important," Lex says, sounding so, so serious.

Marley blinks, and then nods. "Of course, Lex," she says, and then beams when Lex gives her a quick hug before he heads to the door, dutifully waiting for his mother before walking out.

Quinn smiles at Marley. "Later, Little Rose," she says, waving once, and then heads to the door as well. She kisses the top of Lex's head before they head out, because she is so, so proud of him.

Quinn works very hard at being the best mother she can be. A lot of people have told her that the most she can hope for is a child who is happy and healthy, and she would agree with that.

It's just that she wants more for him. Happiness is all fine and dandy, but what if the people around you aren't? Then what? Which is why she's tried to show Lex that even the little things can make a difference in other people's lives.

* * *

The super store is exactly where Marley said it would be, and Quinn sends Lex to fetch a cart while she grabs a catalog to check for any specials. She keeps an eye on him, watching as he takes the time to find one with properly working wheels.

He's the cutest, really.

Once he's at her side again, she asks, "Game plan?"

"Pizza."

Quinn laughs. "Let's go aisle by aisle," she says. "We have quite a few things to get."

Lex hops onto the end of the cart, facing her, and Quinn gets them moving. Normally, he doesn't enjoy shopping, but Quinn likes to send him to fetch things to keep him interested.

They manage to get all that was already on the list, and then everything she's mentally catalogued. Trash bags and foil and potatoes and garlic and _so much milk_.

The cart is piled to its top by the time they pick up a few boxes of frozen pizza, and Quinn is a little flushed when they finally get to the checkout. Lex tosses in a few chocolate bars while the cashier is tilling up, and Quinn pretends not to notice.

The final total is higher than she expects, but she hasn't had to think very hard about being able to afford things in quite a few years now. She's comfortable, particularly after her inheritance. She's made sure to be able to provide for her son, and she hopes, one day, he'll be able to want for nothing. It's a dream she has, and she's working towards it.

Getting home is another mission, and Lex feigns exhaustion once they pull into their driveway.

"Na ah," Quinn says. "Help me get this stuff in the house, and then you can nap."

"But Mommy," he whines. "I'm tired."

Quinn ignores him as she gets out of the car and opens the back of the SUV, just managing to catch the melon they bought before it rolls right out onto the concrete. She grabs a few bags, and then heads to the front door, pulling out the keys and unlocking it. She deposits everything in the kitchen, and goes back out.

Quinn is already on her third trip by the time Lex drags himself out of the car to help. He's a little sulky about it, but she's not making any comments. She imagines he's tired, given their miles of travel and his early start to the day.

Once everything is inside, Quinn locks the car and the front door before she retreats to the kitchen to unpack their booty. Lex surprises her with a hug, wrapping his arms around her hips and resting his head on her stomach.

"Hi, Baby Shark," she whispers, rubbing his back. "Everything okay?"

He nods against her, and Quinn just holds him close while he seeks this affection. All the books she's read about child psychology have helped her prepare for most things, sure, but Lex is always a surprise to her.

Eventually, he releases her, and then asks to be lifted onto the counter. It's a 'Baby Move,' as she calls it in her head, but she allows it. Once there, he starts taking out items from the bags and setting them on the counter for her to sort through.

Quinn puts on some music while they work, and sings whenever she knows the lyrics. Soon, he joins in, and his melancholy seems to disappear completely. Packing away their things takes longer than she initially thought, and it's practically lunch time once they're done.

"Pizza?" she asks, because she really doesn't feel like cooking right now and she knows it'll make him happy.

His smile is blinding. "Please."

"Grab one from the freezer," she instructs, and he launches himself off the counter, giving her a heart attack in the process.

She definitely needs a nap.

Pizza first, then a nap.

It's the agenda for the day, and she's not surprised when the two of them - and Sasha - pass out on the couch after they've eaten.

Quinn doesn't dream, which is a relief, and she wakes a few hours later to a lower sun and a drooling boy practically on top of her.

Quinn sucks in a breath, and then carefully removes herself from Lex's clutches. He grumbles a bit, but remains asleep, and Quinn visits the bathroom before checking her phone. She has emails and texts and social media notifications a plenty, but she's not bothered by any of them. She does have a few missed calls that she needs to return, and she does that immediately, bringing the phone up to her ear.

It rings twice before Louisa says, "Fucking finally."

Quinn grins, unable to stop herself. "Hello to you, too, Pretty."

Louisa Stone puffs out a breath. "Why didn't you call to say you arrived safely?"

"I texted."

"_Call_, Quinn," Louisa says. "I wanted to talk to my godson."

"I'll have him call you later," she says. "Right now, your bambino is drooling all over my couch."

"I want pictures."

"Of course."

Louisa falls silent for a moment. "Are you okay?" she asks, quiet and understanding. "Are you settling in all right? Have you met your neighbours?"

Quinn sighs. "Things are good," she answers. "We're still getting comfortable with the place. Baby slept in my bed the first night, but he managed his own last night."

"And you?"

"It's new," she says. "Different. I miss you guys. I miss a lot of things."

Louisa clears her throat. "Have you - "

"Lou," Quinn interrupts. "Don't."

She sighs heavily. "Okay, okay. Just, you know, if you want to talk some more about it, I'm here, okay? And Jane. We're all here."

"I know."

"As long as you do."

Quinn smiles, relieved and oddly settled. She was terrified of the move, though she wouldn't have admitted it to anyone. Sure, it's only been two days, but she's not quite regretting it yet.

She hopes she never does.

* * *

Lex begs Quinn to go to Pie Night at Rose's Diner when he wakes something like ten minutes later. She's in the middle of returning emails when he clambers into her home office and crawls into her lap.

"Please," he begs, bringing out those gorgeous, puppy-dog eyes that make her weak. "What are we supposed to have for dinner if we don't go?"

Quinn chuckles softly, kissing his forehead. "Okay, Sweets," she murmurs. "On one condition, though."

Lex blinks slowly. "Condition," he repeats.

Quinn thinks of a synonym he'll understand, but all that comes to mind is stipulation and constraint. "We can go, only if you agree to something in return," she tries.

Lex nods, suddenly serious. "Okay."

"You have to have vegetables."

Lex gasps, and then pouts.

"Take it or leave it, kind sir," she says. "Do we have a deal?"

He sighs dramatically, and then nods his head, presenting his hand to seal the deal. Her hand engulfs his when they shake, and she bites the inside of her cheek to stop her smile. He's just so stinking cute.

"Go put on some pants, dude," she says, and he takes off in a flash. Quinn takes another look at her laptop screen, decides the emails can wait, and then goes to get herself ready. She pulls on some jeans and closed shoes, runs a brush through her hair, and then heads down the stairs to let Sasha out.

She's just getting to the front door when Lex comes bounding down the stairs, a sweater draped over his shoulder and his left shoelaces barely tied. He's put on a pair of his own jeans and combed his hair.

She's tempted to tease him about sprucing himself up for Marley, but she's determined not to give him a complex about who he may or may come to like in the future.

"Ready to go, Officer?" Quinn asks.

"Ready."

Quinn opens the door, and Lex slips through, leading the way to the car. The sun is lower in the sky, but not quite setting, and she likes the fact they get a longer day here.

The parking lot is fuller than it was in the morning, obviously, and Quinn has to park further away.

"Looks popular," she comments as she climbs out of the car and waits for Lex to follow. "It's probably going to be busy."

Quinn isn't wrong, and she almost walks right back out once they step inside. She isn't particularly comfortable in large crowds - much to her friends' dismay - and the diner is bustling.

Lex grips her hand hard, because this is something he understands about his mother, and he's always been a little protective of her.

Before Quinn can make a decision, a voice calls, "Lex, you made it!" to their right, and Marley is suddenly walking towards them, beaming so widely that it looks as if it might hurt.

"Hi, Marley," Lex says, smiling a little hesitantly.

Quinn manages a smile, still uncomfortable. "We had to come check it out," she says. "Someone mentioned this was the place to be."

Marley's smile widens. "Sounds like someone smart."

"Debatable," Quinn jokes, and then flinches when someone to their left laughs uproariously.

Marley seems to notice then how tense they both are. "We don't have any tables or booths free at the moment," she says. "Reckon I can interest you in a takout?"

Quinn breathes out in relief. "That would be great, actually," she says. "We'll have whatever you recommend."

"Does that include dessert?" Marley asks, winking at Lex, who visibly blushes.

Quinn answers for him. "Something we can share," she says. "That'd be really great, Primrose. Thank you."

Marley returns her smile. "You guys can wait out front if you'd like," she says, entirely too casually. "It's kind of stuffy in here, ain't it?"

Quinn is already planning how much a tip she's going to give, because this girl is a diamond. "Thanks," she says, and then lets Lex lead the way outside.

They linger in front of the diner, Lex never straying too far from Quinn. He runs along the sidewalk, skipping over the cracks in the pavement, and Quinn feels herself settle at the sight of him acting so wonderful and silly and free.

She's so caught up in him that the sound of a child crying takes a while to permeate her thoughts. It's coming from an SUV parked a few metres away, and Quinn can see a man leaning into the backseat and looking a little panicked as he tries to get the crying child to calm.

She risks a smile, recalling her own attempts at trying to get Lex not to cry while they were in public. The uncontrollable tantrums have since ceased, and now she's able to talk to him and have him understand whenever he goes off these days.

The crying doesn't stop, though, and Quinn contemplates heading over to see if she can help the overwhelmed man, but then Marley is opening the door and stepping out. Her smile is wide as she hands them a large food bag.

"Whoa," Lex says, his eyes wide.

Quinn just chuckles. "How much do I owe you?"

Marley looks a little stumped, as if she was planning to give it to them free of charge. "Oh, um - "

Quinn shakes her head and hands over a large note, which makes Marley's eyes almost bug out. "Thank you, Tulip," she says.

Marley just continues to stare at them.

Lex hugs her quickly, says a quiet _thank you_, and then the two of them turn to go to the car. Quinn hears the door open and close behind them, which is a relief, and she feels immensely proud of her son for some reason.

"Mommy, look," Lex says a moment later, and Quinn's eyes snap to the right where the child's persistent crying has been muffled.

By a hand.

Quinn blinks, because she's convinced she's not actually seeing what she's seeing because now the man is saying, "Shut up. Just shut up."

"Stop," another voice squeaks. A young one. And it's the first time Quinn notices there's actually a boy with the man, standing at his side and trying to get him to stop... smothering the toddler in a car seat. "Stop, you're hurting him."

Quinn feels cold all over, and her body acts without her mind's consent.

She remembers handing her keys to Lex and telling him to go to the car. She remembers approaching the man with rage burning in her veins.

It's really all she remembers.

Because, the next thing she knows, she's driving away from Rose's Diner with three children in her backseat instead of one.

* * *

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God."

The car isn't moving anymore, but neither is Quinn. She's parked in their driveway, her heart beating a mile a minute and blood rushing in her ears.

Okay.

Wow, okay.

"Mommy," Lex tries, his voice quiet, and it helps Quinn settle.

Quinn takes a long, deep breath. "Okay," she says. "Everything is okay. We're all okay, right?" She turns around to see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at her. For a moment, it makes her smile.

Before the panic sets in, once more.

"Hi," she manages to say to the boy clinging to his little brother.

Nothing.

"I'm Quinn," she says; "and this is my son, Lex." When she gets no response, Quinn sighs. "This has been quite the night, huh?"

The boy blinks, but says nothing.

Lex leans forward. "You kidnapped them."

Quinn licks her lips. "Well, yes, I guess I kind of did." She looks at Lex. "Welcome to Lima, huh?"

"Mom," Lex groans.

Quinn takes a breath. "Okay, little peeps, we have to come up with a plan," she says. "Also, I'm hungry." She looks at the boy. "Have you eaten?"

He shakes his head, his dark hair bouncing slightly.

"Think we can head inside and eat something while we try to get a hold of, uh - your mother?"

He continues to stare blankly at her.

Quinn sighs. "I have every intention of returning you to your family," she says as softly as she can. "I'm just going to need your help to do that." She looks at the toddler in the boy's lap. "I'd also like to take a look at your brother to make sure he's not hurt, okay? You can be there the entire time." She looks at Lex, silently asking for some help.

Lex takes the cue. "Come on, dude," he says. "We've got pie."

Quinn would laugh, if she wasn't so surprised that's what finally does it. The boy nods his head, and then the four of them are heading into the house, moving straight into the kitchen once they've greeted Sasha.

The boy seems to settle at the sight of their dog, who nuzzles into his side as Quinn gets them set up at the kitchen table, spreading out the food and laying out plates for all of them.

She dishes for their guests - wow, Quinn, just call your victims your guests, why don't you? - first, and then lets Lex choose for himself. Marley really spoiled them with choice, but Quinn suddenly feels queasy.

"You're not allergic to anything, are you?" Quinn asks, and receives a head-shake in response. "What about Little Bug?"

A shrug.

"Is he okay to have some chicken and veggies from the pie?" she asks. "I'll blend it, of course."

A nod.

Quinn will take what she can get. She gets them glasses of juice, dishes her own food, and then sits at the table with them, listening to Lex tell a story about the last pie the two of them attempted to make.

"It was a disaster," he says, echoing Louisa's opinion on the final product.

"It wasn't that bad," Quinn finds herself saying, her eyes on the toddler sitting in the boy's lap, whose attention she's managed to hold.

She's feeding him slowly, and she's surprised by how well behaved he's being after the ordeal he's just been through. She even gets a few smiles out of him, which makes her chest fill with warmth. He's really very cute, with wide brown eyes and restless hands.

"You ate it, didn't you?" Quinn points out to Lex.

"I didn't know any better," Lex jokes, and the boy laughs, which draws a smile from Quinn, though she does her best to temper it.

"And now you do?"

"I think you should stick to pancakes, Mom," he says, mouth still full of food.

"Flex," she says gently. "Remember our manners."

He swallows his food and smiles a little sheepishly. "Can we have dessert please?"

"Why don't you ask our new friend if he'd like some?" she asks, as she gets to her feet and looks into what Marley has organised for dessert. It's apple pie, coupled with a note that says _eat with vanilla ice cream - M_, and Quinn finds herself smiling as she retrieves bowls for them.

She knows she's going to have to push for information now, before this situation gets further out of hand. She gets the tub of ice cream from the freezer while Lex clears the table, and then dishes out small pieces of pie. They're young boys, whether they like to admit it or not.

Once everyone is settled once more, Quinn asks, "Do you happen to know who I should be calling?"

The boy hesitates, and then nods.

"Do you know the number?"

A shake of the head.

Quinn hums. "Would I be able to find the number in the phone book if I had a name?"

A shrug.

"_Google_?"

Lex giggles, and the boy smiles.

Quinn exaggerates a groan, which gets full-on laughter from both boys. "What are we going to do?" she asks, and gets nothing in response. Her smile fades. "Look, Popsicle, we have to work together here, all right? There is someone out there who is worried about you, right?"

A nod.

"I'm not going to apologise for taking you from your dad, but - "

"He's not my dad."

Quinn freezes momentarily, caught off guard by the sound of his voice. "Oh. Okay. Well, uh, someone's still worried about you, right? Your mom? Grandparents?" She blinks. "Someone who won't hurt you?"

"He likes my mom," the boy explains. "They used to date a long time ago, but he's not very nice to us."

Quinn nods. "I saw that, Kid," she says. "I'm sorry."

He clenches his jaw. "I can't tell her he's mean, because she always gets happy when he's around, and I don't like it when she's sad."

Quinn has the urge to pull him into a hug, but she holds still. "That must be tough," she says, glancing at Lex, who has stopped eating his ice cream. She can only imagine what's going through his head, and she wants to hug him tight to her chest for long, long minutes.

"Hugo," he says.

Quinn frowns, not following.

"My name is Hugo," he says; "and this is Max."

Quinn smiles at him. "Well, hello, Mysterious Hugo," she says. "And hello there, Little Max."

She gets a smile and a giggle in response.

"Think you can help me get in touch with your mom?"

Hugo nods. "I know my house phone number."

Quinn pumps a fist through the air. "Now we're talking," she says as she gets to her feet to retrieve her phone. "Do you know where you live?" she asks.

"Not really," he says. "I know what our house looks like, though."

"I'll bear that in mind," she says. "We might have to take a drive if it starts getting too late." She gets Hugo to input the number into her phone, and then steps out of the room to make the call.

It goes to voicemail.

Of course it does.

"God, this is going to be so weird," she mumbles to herself just as the beep signals the start of the message.

It's as awkward as one expects.

"Uh, hello," she says, internally cringing. "Um, yeah, I'm calling because I wanted to let someone know that I have Hugo and Max with me. They're safe and fed, currently eating ice cream, so I hope that's okay. Uh, so, there was an incident this evening, I'm sure you now know, but I'm totally willing to explain. I think you'll understand I wasn't really left with much of a choice - I couldn't just let that man hurt them. I'm not sure what to do, given I haven't been in this situation before, but, uh, please call me back on XXX-XXXX as soon as possible, and we can figure out a way for me to get them back home." A pause. "Oh, this is Quinn, by the way."

It feels incomplete once it's over, and she spends a few moments just staring at her screen before she realises she needs to go back to the kitchen. She finds the boys giggling about something, Max halfway asleep in Hugo's arms.

They both look up when she enters. "No answer," she tells them, checking the time on her phone.

Hugo shrugs. "She's bad with answering it," he says. "She was supposed to meet us at Rose's."

Quinn blinks slowly, a thought coming to mind. "Maybe we should go back there," she suggests.

Hugo hesitates. "What - what if Finn is there?"

Quinn breathes out slowly. "Is Finn the man who was with you?"

Hugo nods.

"Has - has he done what he did today before?"

Hugo says nothing, which is really answer enough. He can't look at her, either, and his grip tightens on a sleeping Max.

"We can just drive by," Quinn says softly. "Bud, you won't have to see him if you don't want to, okay?"

"Promise?"

Quinn glances at Lex, who looks very, very serious. "I promise," she says, and she hopes this is a promise she'll be able to keep.

Hugo studies her closely, searching for something. Whether he finds it or not, she doesn't know, but he does ask where the bathroom is.

"Kiddo, can you show him?" Quinn asks Le before looking at Hugo. "Would you be okay if I held the Bug while you're gone? I think we'll be okay for a few minutes."

Hugo waits a moment, and then nods. Quinn gets to her feet and bends to lift Max into her arms. He's soft and warm, and his diaper is definitely full.

"Hey," she murmurs to Hugo, wary of the sleeping baby. "Are you able to change his diaper?"

Hugo nods.

"I have some supplies for you, if you're not comfortable with my doing it."

"I - oh, it's okay," he says, wrinkling his nose. "You can do it."

"Too gross?"

Hugo grimaces. "Super gross."

Quinn chuckles softly. "Why don't we all go upstairs, then?" she suggests. "You boys can wash up while I get Mustard here more comfortable, and then we can see about heading over to Rose's, if nobody's called on the number I left. Sound like a plan?"

Lex and Hugo both nod, and then they all head up the stairs. Quinn leaves them to it, and takes Max to her bedroom, where she has a few leftover supplies from Louisa and Jane's daughter, Christine. She kneels on the carpet and lays Max on her bed, humming quietly as he shifts in his sleep.

Gosh.

She can't even remember when Lex was this small, so sweet and innocent. So trusting and reliant on her. It's really amazing how they grow.

She makes quick work of getting him sorted, gently rubbing his tummy and smiling when big brown eyes blink up at her. She's a little worried he'll start crying, but she gets a smile instead.

"Hello, Little Bug," she whispers. "Did you have a good sleep?"

He reaches out with his hands, aiming for her hair, and she bravely leans forward, allowing him to play with her soft curls. It reminds her of Lex, and she feels a pang in her chest that her own little boy is growing up so fast.

She spends a few minutes just giggling with Max, enjoying the excited voices coming from Lex's room. She can hear words such as _Iron Man_ and _super cool_ and _we should go see the new movie together_ and _that's so cool_, and Quinn feels her heart expand in her chest.

"Hear that, Maxi," she murmurs; "Tex-Lex and Hamburg seem to be getting along."

Eventually, she lets out a yawn, gets to her feet and lifts Max into her arms once more. He wiggles a bit, and she loosens her grip just enough for him to bend his back and look at her face.

"Ready to go?" she asks him. "Let's go see your mom, okay?"

She gets a gurgle in response, and it's wonderful.

Oh, no.

Is this - is she actually getting baby fever?

Quinn leaves her bedroom and moves towards Lex's room, popping her head inside. "Hey, Superheroes," she calls. "You two ready to go?"

Lex groans. "Do we have to?"

"I know it's nearing your bedtime, but it's important we get our stowaways back to their mom, don't you think?"

Hugo turns away and mutters, "Like she even cares."

Quinn thinks she _could_ address that, but she doesn't feel it's her place. She's done more than enough tonight, she thinks, and she can't make claims when she's never met his mother. "Come on," she says. "Maybe you'll score some more ice cream when you get home."

Hugo's shoulders slump, and Quinn wants to reach out to hug him. Instead, she looks at Lex, who takes a breath and then very quietly asks, "Can I hug you?"

Hugo looks confused for a moment, and then nods, allowing Lex to swing an arm over his shoulders and let him know everything is going to be okay.

It's entirely too sweet, and Quinn can barely handle it. Eventually, though, she forces herself to say, "Leo, lend Harry a jacket, will you? The temp's probably dropped outside."

"Sure, Mom," Lex says, giggling at Hugo's look of confusion at the switched names. "She does that a lot," he explains.

"Meet at the door," she instructs, and then leaves them to it, going to the linen closet to find one of Lex's old receiving blankets to wrap around Max's squirming body.

He's a little talkative now, making sounds and gripping at her hair as she walks around gathering her silent phone, keys and purse, before she gets to the door and waits.

The boys arrive eventually, both of them yawning.

"Ready to go, Officers?" she asks.

Hugo looks confused again, but Lex grins at her, saluting. "Ready," Lex says, and Quinn opens the door to allow them through. She locks it behind them, and gets them piled into the car, Max held securely in Hugo's arms.

Quinn feels herself getting inexplicably more nervous the closer they get to the diner, and she's right to be worried when she pulls into the parking lot and sees a police car and people buzzing around the front of the diner.

Oh, boy.

"You rascals okay?" Quinn asks.

"We're okay, Mom," Lex says.

"We should probably get out there," Quinn says, sounding unsure. "Do you see your mom?"

"No, but that's her car," Hugo says. "She should be here."

Quinn opens her door, and climbs out, mentally steeling herself. She turns to open Hugo's door for him, and makes sure to look into his eyes. "Want me to take him?"

Hugo nods, and Quinn scoops Max into her arms. "I know we've met under unusual circumstances," she tells him; "but I'm glad we did."

"Really?"

Quinn nods. "Who else was going to kick Mr Scary Guy's shin to make sure we could escape safely?"

Hugo blushes. "You saw that?"

"I did," Quinn says. "You very brave. Do you take karate or something?"

His blush merely intensifies, and Quinn can't help her smile.

"You're stronger than you know, little Jedi Master."

Hugo giggles, and Lex offers him a fist for a bump.

Quinn reaches into her back pocket to retrieve the contact card she intends to give to Hugo. "This is my number, okay?" she says. "If you ever need anything, you call me, okay?"

Hugo nods slowly, taking the card from her and placing it in the breast pocket of his checked shirt.

"Whenever, okay?"

"Okay," Hugo confirms.

Quinn pauses. "Also, you know, maybe you should try to memorise it, just in case."

That gets her a little laugh.

"Come on," Quinn finally says; "let's go face the music."

Quinn holds Lex's hand with her free one as they round the car and move towards the front door of the diner. She's mentally rehearsing her explanation for the days events, which all gets derailed when the man from earlier - whoa, did she actually give him a black eye? - spots her first and comes stalking towards them, violently waving a finger and looking menacing.

"You!" he shouts, drawing people's collective attention to himself and her, and Quinn flinches moments before her protective instincts kick in and she shifts the boys behind her as she turns her body to shield Max, who immediately bursts into tears.

"You fucking punched me!" he roars, getting closer and closer, and Quinn makes the decision to hand Max to Hugo as she prepares to -

Well, she isn't even sure what she's going to do; just that she's going to do whatever it takes to keep him from getting anywhere near her boys.

Whoa.

_Get yourself together, Fabray_.

Quinn braces herself, but a sharp voice stops everything, and every person in the vicinity freezes in place, the sound piercing the space all around them.

"Finn!"

Quinn's head snaps to the door, where a brunette woman is standing, flanked by a brunette man and a blonde woman.

"Mom," Hugo says, suddenly smiling, and then escapes from behind Quinn to move towards the woman whose voice is still echoing around them.

It spells trouble for Quinn, though, which is something she realises too late, because some woman comes literally out of nowhere, screaming, "Is this the bitch that stole my boys?" and catching Quinn entirely off guard when she's suddenly tackled to the floor.

Lex screams, and other people scream, and Quinn uses all her strength to push the woman off her, barely dodging swinging fists. She scrambles to her feet, precious parts of her body aching, and her gaze is hard.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screeches. "There are children here."

Someone is holding the crazy woman back, but she's still yelling and that Finn is yelling, and Hugo is also being held back and Lex is crying, and it's an entire mess.

Quinn looks around for her son, seeing him standing there, frozen in place, looking terrified. She moves towards him immediately, only for someone to grab her shoulder, and she spins on instinct and punches whoever it is right in the face, knocking them onto the ground.

"Get your hands off me," she hisses, and then looks at Lex again. "Baby Shark," she whispers, dropping to her knees in front of him. "Mommy's okay. Look, Mommy's just fine."

"You're bleeding," he cries, and then flings himself at her, clutching at her neck and winding her.

Quinn both hardens and softens, her heart beating way too fast. She wraps her arms around him, and then gets to her feet, not letting go. Ever.

There are people all around her, watching. She spots Marley in the background, and she looks distraught. Quinn can only imagine what _she_ looks like, standing there under the lights, bleeding God knows where, with a tiny boy clinging to her.

Well.

Quinn's gaze falls on the brunette woman who seems to be Hugo and Max's mother. She's just staring, unmoved, and there's a tiny bit of Quinn that actually hates her in this moment.

Quinn clears her throat, tasting blood in her mouth. "Well," she says, her voice flat. "If you honestly think I'm the one you should be worried about being around your children, you really need to re-evaluate with whom you spend time." Her eyes drop to Hugo, who looks terrified and confused and so, so angry. "You're a ninja, remember?" she says with a slow wink, and he manages a smile. She risks a tiny smirk back, and then turns and walks away, Lex's face tucked into the crook of her neck.

Nobody tries to stop her.

It's a fight to get him into the backseat when they get to the car, and she has to promise he can hold onto her shoulder while she drives them home to get him to cooperate.

He's extra clingy when they get home, and he doesn't let go of her while she cleans her few cuts and then gets him into the bath. She hopes it'll relax him, and it works a little, until it's time for bed.

Quinn won't even entertain the idea of making him sleep in his own bed, so they crawl into her own, and she allows herself to replay the entire day for the first time.

Wow.

Lex falls asleep, his head on her chest, but it takes her much longer to follow.

She does, though, eventually.

Welcome to Lima, all right.


	2. II

**II**

Hugo isn't talking to her.

Well, beyond the words _why would you do that_? and _they were my friends_, and now Rachel is at a loss as to what went so wrong. All she knows is her children were missing for almost two hours, stolen from a parking lot, and now they're back.

Unhurt and safe and angry with her, for some reason.

From Hugo's reaction, Rachel knew pressing charges would be pointless. The police also seemed uninterested, and Rachel doesn't really feel like starting a fight with some strange woman, for whatever reason.

Unlike Santana, who Hugo seems to hold even more disdain towards. It was alarming, really, because her older son isn't one for losing his temper or even using too many words. But, well, he really handed it to Santana when the dust settled, and now they're all just confused.

Hugo stormed up the stairs when they arrived home, and even Max seems distant. He's also wrapped in a blanket she's never seen, and something about it makes her both uncomfortable and inexplicably warm.

It's been a day and a half.

Rachel takes Max upstairs to his room to check him over and get him ready for bed. She finds a fresh onesie to change him into, and then proceeds to wipe him down with a damp cloth, frowning at the fact that his diaper is a brand she doesn't use.

Did that woman actually change his diaper? What the hell?

Max kicks a little, and then settles slowly as she works. He's practically asleep by the time she's finished, and his eyes slip fully closed when she sets him in his crib, bending to kiss his forehead.

"My precious baby," she whispers, and she can't even imagine life without him. Or Hugo.

God. She had to deal with the reality of such a thing between the panicked call Finn placed, and seeing some woman approach her with her children. They were the worst minutes of her life.

The way Finn described her, Rachel expected anyone other than the woman who eventually showed up, eyes soft and smile a little hesitant. Then she was statue-still, hiding her children from Finn and preparing to take him on.

And then Santana went and tackled her, throwing fists until the woman practically flung her off, which, yes, was super impressive. She looked a little rabid, looking around until her eyes settled on a young boy.

The punch she proceeded to land on Noah was equally impressive, delivered with such precision that Rachel is sure it's not the first one she's swung. Then she knelt in front of the boy, and Rachel's heart twisted rather painfully.

Rachel can't explain her feelings on the words she ended up saying, and she's sure there's more to it. What, though, she doesn't know.

With a sigh, she leaves Max's room and crosses the hallway to Hugo's. She knocks once, and then opens the door to reveal a dim room and a sleeping boy sprawled across his covers.

Rachel's heart aches at the sight of him. Things really haven't been the same since their move from New York a year ago, and she can't quite figure out what she's doing so wrong. It's been worse recently, though, and she wishes he would just talk to her.

Rachel moves into the room, avoiding clothes that have been flung on the floor. At least Hugo managed to change into his pyjamas before he passed out, and all she has to do is coax him under the covers without waking him and facing his ire.

She's successful, and he only mumbles something about ninjas as he resettles against his pillows. She bends to kiss his brow, and then proceeds to pick up his clothing for the laundry, pausing when she finds a thin jacket that's definitely not Hugo's.

She doesn't know what to make of all of this, so she just leaves the clothes in a pile on Hugo's desk chair, deciding she'll deal with it in the morning. Right now, she thinks a glass of wine will help her make sense of her thoughts.

She's almost right, as she settles into an armchair in the main living room a few minutes later, feeling her muscles relax. Her mind isn't as lucky, and it's running far too fast as she replays the last few hours of her life. She feels as if she's missing something important, but she can't figure out what.

The house is dark and quiet now, which isn't unusual for this time of night. More often than not, she's left to her own thoughts. They're a jumble, of course, because when aren't they? She's been restless for months now, and the only time she feels calm is -

Well.

She's not sure.

She sips at her wine and tries to clear her mind, which is definitely easier said than done. The unfortunate hallmark of a creative mind is that it very rarely switches off.

A blinking light catches her attention, and she frowns, because she's sure it wasn't blinking earlier. What even counts as earlier?

With a disgruntled huff, she gets to her feet and crosses over to where Noah installed their home phone. She very rarely uses it; rather making use of her mobile phone, so it's odd to see that they have a message.

From a stranger.

_Uh, hello. Um, yeah, I'm calling because I wanted to let someone know that I have Hugo and Max with me. They're safe and fed, currently eating ice cream, so I hope that's okay. Uh, so, there was an incident this evening, I'm sure you now know, but I'm totally willing to explain. I think you'll understand I wasn't really left with much of a choice - I couldn't just let that man hurt them. I'm not sure what to do, given I haven't been in this situation before, but, uh, please call me back on XXX-XXXX as soon as possible, and we can figure out a way for me to get them back home. Oh, this is Quinn, by the way_.

Rachel breathes through her nose, frowning at what she's just heard. She replays the message, recording it as a memo on her cell phone. What is she talking about? What incident? What man? Finn? That doesn't sound right.

Her body is exhausted, and her brain is overworked, so she makes a note to herself to figure out more about the situation in the morning.

* * *

The situation, as it stands, is that Hugo still isn't talking to her when the sun comes up. Instead, he stomps through preparing his own cereal and pouring himself a glass of juice, while Rachel feeds Max and nibbles on a bowl of fruit. She can practically feel the anger rolling off him, and he keeps glancing at Max, as if he's afraid there's something wrong with him.

It's really what prompts Rachel to ask him, "Did that woman hurt you?"

The look he gives her is scathing, and Rachel can't imagine what she's done to deserve it. "Of course not," he says. "Quinn wouldn't hurt us."

"She kidnapped you," Rachel protests, because she can't understand how Hugo could possibly be defending her.

"She did not _kidnap_ us," Hugo forces out, his brow creased in something that looks like fury. He's even stopped eating, and Rachel just knows he's done.

"Are you trying to tell me you _willingly_ went with her?"

Hugo gets up from the table and takes his bowl to the sink without saying another word.

"Hugo," Rachel says, her voice firm. "Tell me you did not get in the car with a complete stranger."

Hugo sets his bowl on the counter and leaves it there. When he speaks, there's something detached in his voice. "I don't see what's so different about what we did earlier in the day," he says, vaguely referring to the fact she left them with Finn for an entire afternoon. "At least Quinn fed us."

Rachel opens her mouth to reply - though, even she wouldn't know what to say - but Hugo runs from the room before she can. It leaves her stumped, definitely, and it takes Max banging his fists against his high chair for her to land back in reality.

"Okay, Buddy," she says, cleaning him up and lifting him out. Her mind is a little distracted as she gets him set up on the baby mat in the living room, pouring out his age-appropriate toys, and leaving him to entertain himself.

She makes herself a steaming latte, and then settles with her phone in the living room to check her messages. Most are from Santana, who seems just as confused as Rachel is, and she calls her back immediately.

"Yo."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Good morning, Santana."

"You realise how early it is, right?"

"I'm pretty sure Cam's had you awake since five," she points out, and Santana can't even dispute it. "What's for breakfast?"

"Coffee."

Rachel manages a smile as she sips her own latte. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"I definitely need it," she returns with a sigh. "You'd think that B and I would've learned from Hugo how tough having children is, and then we decided to have two of them. I'm fucking exhausted."

"You love being a mom."

"I really, really do," she admits, unashamed. "I also quite enjoy being a godmother, but my godson seems to have other ideas about that."

Rachel winces. "Well, it hasn't been any better this morning," she confesses. "If anything, it's been worse."

"Did he tell you what happened?"

"I'm trying to let him cool off," she says. "I'll approach him about it once I've had my coffee."

"Don't let it stew too much, Rach," she says. "He's stubborn in a way that's different to you."

"I don't even know where he gets it."

"Definitely not from the sperm donor, either."

Rachel chuckles. "He actually called the other day," she says. "Something about his plans to sell the loft."

"Huh?"

"He's moving out, apparently," she explains. "It's still in my name, technically, so I'm probably going to have to fly to New York to sort that out."

"Do you even want to sell?" she asks. "You worked hard to buy that place."

Rachel hums thoughtfully. "Think it would be better to rent it out?"

"Does he really think the money will go to him?"

"I won't claim to know anything that goes through his mind," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Did he even ask to speak to his son?"

Rachel doesn't respond to that, because they already know the answer to her question. It's layered in other topics about which they don't speak, but they both have truths that the other knows.

Santana puffs out a breath. "Well, look, let me know how it goes with Hugo, okay? I want my Hugo-Hugs."

"Sure, San," she says. "Thank you, and kiss the girls for me. We definitely missed them last night."

"I will," she says. "Later, Bitch."

Rachel has merely a moment to feel her amusement, before it fades to worry once more. Going straight at Hugo isn't going to work, especially when he's actively fighting against her, so she's going to need another plan of action.

Before she makes another move, she downs the rest of her coffee, and then dials another number.

Finn answers with a gruff, "Hello," and he still sounds annoyed by the events of the previous night. Not that Rachel can really blame him. He got decked in the face, kicked in the shin, a car door closed on him, and then had to deal with Rachel screaming at him for two hours for losing her children.

Finn Hudson has had a night from hell.

"Hey," Rachel says, trying to sound as sweet as possible. She won't apologise for her reaction to the news her kids were missing, but she thinks she probably owes Finn a bit of attention.

But, first, she has a pressing question, and it takes a few minutes of vague small talk to ask about what 'incident' the woman was referring to. Finn sounds just as confused by it as she feels, and she probably makes the mistake of mentioning that Hugo complained that they hadn't been fed, which is an explanation Finn latches onto.

Rachel won't say she feels completely comfortable with the idea her maybe-boyfriend forgot to feed her children, but it helps explain some of the confusion surrounding Hugo's ire and desire to get away.

Once the call is done, Rachel goes into the kitchen to clean up and do the few dishes, using the menial task to settle her mind further. House chores help with that, and she thinks they're due a few loads of laundry.

Max follows her around at a crawl, mumbling happily to himself and finding entertainment in her pink socks. When she goes upstairs to gather what dirty clothes she can find in all their bedrooms, she does not expect Hugo to react the way he does when she tries to take the foreign jacket.

He practically leaps to his feet from where he's reading on his bed and snatches it from her. "It's not mine," he says.

"I know," Rachel says carefully. "I just want to wash it, and then we'll return it."

Hugo glares at her. "We can't just return it," he says. "They're never going to speak to us again."

"Hugo, honey, this is - " crazy, she wants to say, but that's not a word to be used lightly.

"Just leave it alone," he says, turning away. "Leave me alone. You're good at it."

Again, Rachel is stumped. He's never said anything like that to her before, and it makes her eyes sting. The only thing she can really think of is to ground him for how rude he's being, so she does.

It doesn't seem like a punishment at all.

In fact, it probably hurts her more than it hurts him.

* * *

After a week of short outbursts and the silent treatment, Rachel makes sure to take Hugo and Max to Rose's Diner herself the following Wednesday, the way she promised and failed the week before. There's a tiny part of her that wonders if they'll end up seeing the woman - Quinn - again, but she's trying not to dwell.

Marley is a little hesitant with her approach when they arrive, and Rachel tries not to blame her. The teenager almost talked herself hoarse saying that Quinn was the nicest woman, and she would never hurt Rachel's children the way Finn was implying, only to have nobody believe her.

"Hello," she says anyway, her smile brightening when Max reaches out for her. She shakes his little hand, and then holds out a fist for Hugo to bump. "There should be a free booth in the back," she says. "I'll come by with the menus we all know you're not going to use."

Hugo giggles, and then leads the way to the back of the diner. Rachel's eyes scan the current occupants, recognising nearly all of them from her youth and from the year they've been back. The little family gets nods and waves of greeting as they pass, and it warms a part of Rachel she was sure was chilled to the bone.

Their time in Lima hasn't been easy, but it's definitely been easier than what was the end of their time in New York. Hugo was supposed to be happier here, and, for the most part, he is.

Just, not recently.

Hugo slides into one side of the booth, and Rachel sits with Max in the other, trapping the baby between her body and the wall as he crawls around and attempts to stand.

"Do you know what you're having?" Rachel asks, her right hand steady on Max's back.

Hugo swings his legs as he nods. He gets the same thing every time: a glass of milk and chicken pot pie, with blueberry pie for dessert. Rachel is a fan of the spinach and feta pie, and Max's favourite is pumpkin.

Rachel barely has to tell Marley their order. She arrives with Hugo's milk and Rachel's water, and asks if they're getting their usual.

"And Brittana's," Rachel adds with a nod, suddenly wary of drawing attention to the fact they're going to be joined by Hugo's godmother and Brittany, sans their own children, engineered in an attempt to get Hugo to talk.

It should be fine, she tells herself, but she's proven wrong mere minutes later.

Hugo's mood shifts when Santana and Brittany arrive, his smile slower and his words limited. It's obvious he's still angry with his godmother, and Santana is hoping to talk to him about it tonight. Rachel just hopes they can work it out, because it's honestly one of the most important relationships in Hugo's life.

At some point, Santana gives her a very particular look, and Rachel excuses herself with Brittany to go and see which dessert pies are on offer, Max in her arms. Hugo shoots her a glare, but she just smiles innocently in return.

Rachel, Brittany and Max move towards the long, front counter, dodging a few running children, to peek into the dessert display.

"Ooh," Brittany says. "They have lemon meringue pie tonight."

"That's San's favourite," Rachel muses.

"I think she's going to need it," Brittany comments, glancing over her shoulder at where Santana is obviously trying to talk to Hugo and he's blatantly ignoring her.

Well.

"How has she been?" Rachel asks, catching Max's hand when he reaches for some silverware.

"She misses him," Brittany divulges. "She doesn't understand why he's so angry."

"I'm struggling with that myself," Rachel admits. "I get that this Quinn woman managed to endear herself to him, and then Santana, well, she attacked her, but it feels as if it's something else; something bigger." She blinks. "Like she's failed him, somehow."

"Hopefully, he'll tell us soon," Brittany says. "In the meantime, I'm going to get some pie and take it over there; see if I can break the tension."

Rachel nods at the idea, and then turns back to the counter while Brittany gets Kitty's attention behind the counter. She feels a little odd and out of place, and she's unsure how to get her mind to settle.

She sits Max on the counter so he can swing his legs, and she marvels at his little boy smile right until the moment it twists unpleasantly and he starts to cry. She frowns at the sudden change, ready to comfort him, until she feels a heavy hand on her shoulder and a tall presence slide into her side.

Finn.

Her teenage heart skips a beat at the idea of him, and she turns her head to accept the kiss to the cheek she knows he's now willing to give. Something settles in her mind at the contact, but Max kicks out again, and she's about to lift him into her arms again when Hugo appears out of nowhere and takes him instead.

Hugo's eyes are downcast as he stands there, his little brother secure in his arms, when he says, "I want to go home now."

Rachel frowns. "But you haven't even had dessert yet," she points out.

"I want to go home," he repeats, his voice tense.

"Hugo, honey, we can't just go home," she says. "We're still eating."

"I'm done," he says.

"Well, I'm not."

"I want to go home."

Rachel takes a breath, because her son is almost as stubborn as she is. She also doesn't want to start a fight here, but she knows she can't bend to his demand, just knowing it would send the wrong message.

"Maybe you should let them go," Finn says in her ear, and she stiffens. "Santana and Brittany can take them, and you and I can have the evening to ourselves."

Rachel hates that she considers it; positively despises it. As if a night without her children is something she would strive for. As if spending time with them is some kind of chore.

Rachel shakes her head, as if clearing it, and then steps closer to Hugo and Max, and away from Finn. She schools her features into something stern and drops the volume of her voice when she says, "We are not leaving," to Hugo.

His jaw clenches.

"Go back to the booth," she says steadily. "Take your brother with you. Eat your dessert, and we'll talk about this later."

Hugo eventually huffs out a breath, and then spins around and stomps away, Max bouncing in his arms.

Rachel turns to look at Finn, an unreadable look on her face. He looks hopeful of something, and Rachel wants nothing more than to wipe it right off his face.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, her tone a little icy.

His expression falters. "I - I wanted to see you."

"I told you I was having dinner with my family," she says. "Or, was it that you wanted to join us?"

Finn hesitates, which is really enough for her to know his intention was always to steal her away and leave her boys with their aunts.

Well.

Rachel shakes her head. "Goodnight, Finn," she says, and then starts to turn away, only for him to reach out for her wrist, stopping her.

"But - but we could spend the evening together."

"Not tonight, Finn," she says firmly, and then slips out of his grasp to return to their booth, where Hugo is sulking with Max in his lap and Santana and Brittany are watching him with worry.

Before Rachel can say anything, Marley arrives behind her with the check Rachel didn't know they asked for and a smile. If she senses the tension, she doesn't show it. She rather sets the check on the table, and then bends to tickle Max's cheek while Brittany takes out her purse to settle the bill.

Hugo blinks up at Marley. "Have they come back?" he asks quietly, and Rachel pretends she's not listening.

Marley falters a little. "No, they haven't," she says just as softly. "Definitely not while I've been working."

"Did we scare them away?"

"That's not what happened, Hugo," she tells him. "They've probably been busy trying out all the other diners in town before they figure out Rose's is the best and finally show up again."

Hugo just about manages a smile. "Do you really think so?"

Marley nods earnestly. "I really do."

Hugo nods once, and then leans back, suddenly looking so small and young and lost.

Rachel wants to hold him, but she's sure Hugo won't accept her comfort right now.

Brittany hands Marley her card, and the teenager disappears for a moment, leaving them to get ready to leave. It's a little unspoken that their evening has ended, and Rachel hasn't even had her dessert pie yet.

Well, at least her hips will thank her.

When Marley returns, they say their thanks and farewells, and then leave the diner in silence. Hugo holds onto Max as if someone wants to take him away, and that has Rachel's senses prickling.

They linger in the parking lot, Hugo shifting uncomfortably as Max squirms, looking happier now that they're out of the diner and away from -

Rachel takes her car keys out of her pocket and hands them to Brittany, silently asking her to get her sons situated while she talks to Santana.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say he didn't say anything," Rachel says, sighing when Hugo is out of earshot.

"Nothing," she agrees. "It's as if he can't even look at me. I mean, what did that woman do to him?"

"She fed him ice cream, apparently."

Santana's eyebrows rise. "Did he tell you that?"

"_She_ did, actually," Rachel says, taking out her phone and playing the recording of Quinn's voice message.

"What the hell?" Santana asks when it's over. "What is she even talking about? What did Hugo tell you? Is she talking about Finn? Because I'll fucking - "

Rachel waves a hand to stop Santana's tirade. "It was just a misunderstanding," she says, her brow creased. "I already talked to Finn, and he said the boys were just cranky because they hadn't eaten, and Quinn must have read their dual tantrums as something else."

"Something like what?"

"A cry for help," she says quietly. "Which is crazy. Finn wouldn't - I would know."

Santana looks unconvinced, though she says nothing more on that particular topic. Well. "Just, maybe, make sure he's not alone with the boys for a while," she says. "Hugo could just be acting out because you and Finn seem to be getting closer or whatever it is the fuck you two are doing."

Rachel pockets her phone, nodding in understanding. "That's probably what's best," she says. "I hope it all blows over."

"You're going to have to talk to him," Santana says.

"Who?"

"Both of them."

* * *

It really doesn't help with her decision that both Hugo and Max fall asleep on the way home. It's a little bit of a relief, maybe, because she doesn't really know where to begin with Hugo.

Something is cracked between them, and she can't pinpoint when it happened or why.

If it's still happening.

If it will continue to.

By now, she's a regular old pro at getting Hugo and Max into the house and into bed. She knows she has a lot to think about; a lot to reevaluate, but she's not ready for it. She's not sure she's ever going to be.

Which is a thought that's amplified when she opens her eyes in the morning and feels no different. Confused and overwhelmed and so, so insignificant in a way she hasn't felt since she was a sophomore in high school. It was so long ago, she barely remembers how she handled it then, that she has no hope of doing any better this time around.

The first thing Rachel does once she's up and about is visit the bathroom for all the necessities, and she spends an inconceivably long time just staring at herself in the mirror above her sink. She doesn't think she's changed in appearance all that much in the past week, but she almost doesn't recognise herself.

Something has happened.

Something irreversible.

With a heavy sigh, she leaves her bedroom, retrieves her phone and goes to check on Max, unsurprised to find him awake and sitting up with those gorgeous, big baby eyes that she could stare into for the rest of eternity.

"Good morning, Sweetie Pie," she coos softly, moving into the room with her arms outstretched, prompting him to do the same.

They have a bit of a routine in the morning, and she lifts him out of his crib to his changing station, just knowing she's about to be hit with quite the surprise. As she works, she keeps up her running commentary, somehow just enjoying talking to him, even if he doesn't understand a word she says.

She's just about finished when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket, and she retrieves it to see Santana's grumpy face eyeing her. Just the wakeup call she needs, and she shows the screen to Max, watching his eyes light up in recognition.

Rachel answers a beat later, putting it on speaker and setting it among the baby powder and baby wipes. "You should know," she says in lieu of a greeting; "Max only recognises you when you're scowling."

"I resent that," Santana says, her voice gruff. "Also, your goddaughter had a nightmare she was being attacked by a peanut. I can't even with this child."

Rachel chuckles, clipping Max's onesie closed. "Hear that, baby boy, Camila is being attacked by peanuts."

"She was pretty traumatised," Santana says. "I don't know what kind of peanuts exist in the dream world, but damn."

"It seems your kid has quite the imagination."

"I suppose," Santana muses.

"Is that why you called?" Rachel asks. "To tell me about Cam's dream?"

"And to find out about my godson."

Rachel sighs, patting Max's tummy. "I should probably apologise for the way the night ended," she says. "It was so rushed and so tense. We went to the Diner to have a good time; get our minds off the last week."

"It totally didn't work."

"Epic fail."

Santana sighs. "There's definitely something going on with him. We just need to figure it out."

"I'm working on it."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Will do."

"Call you later, Hot Mama."

Rachel lets out an amused breath, very thankful for her best friend. "Later, Santana."

"You love me."

Rachel exaggerates a kiss. "Bye."

Once the call ends, Rachel's eyes settle on Max's alert eyes. "Do you know what's up with Hugo?" she asks, sounding entirely too serious, as if she could possibly get an actual answer from him. Which is just ridiculous.

Max just stares blankly at her.

Well, it was worth a try.

"Is someone ready for breakfast?" she asks next. "What are you wishing for, huh? How do you feel about some porridge?" She wiggles his little legs, laughing when he kicks out at her. "You're so strong, aren't you? My strong, strong boy."

Rachel makes sure everything is properly sealed, lest they experience some kind of accident, and then lifts him up to leave the room. "Oof," she murmurs. "Someone's getting big, huh? You better start walking before Momma won't be able to carry you anymore or I'm just going to have to drag you around like a baby gorilla." The idea is amusing, and she has a smile on her face right until the moment she peeks into Hugo's room to find his bed empty and unmade.

It's not wildly uncommon, but he usually lingers in his room with a book or something until she gets him for breakfast, and the fact he's not feels like part of the disjoint in which they now find themselves.

With another sigh, Rachel heads down the stairs with Max, suddenly hearing Hugo's voice. His words are a little rushed, practically whispered, and Rachel's Mama Senses prickle at the realisation her son is talking to someone who isn't her.

Rachel pauses on the steps, trying to hear what Hugo is saying. She hopes he's talking to one of his grandfathers on the phone but there's a part of her that just _knows_ he's not. She knows, but she won't allow herself to acknowledge it for what it possibly is.

With a sigh, Rachel keeps moving, making sure to make as much noise as she can coming down the last few stairs. She moves into the living area, and her heart pangs at the sight of Hugo standing there, little face flushed guiltily and hands behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asks.

"Nothing," he squeaks.

Rachel sighs. "Were you on the phone?"

"No."

"Because I think you owe your aunts a call, to apologise for your behaviour last night." She'll demand her own apology later.

Hugo barely hesitates before he's agreeing, already reaching for the phone again. Rachel might delude herself into thinking she managed to convince him all on her own, but she knows better.

The only reason he concedes is because Quinn got to him first.

* * *

It's the upcoming Saturday afternoon when Rachel sees the woman again. She's out with that same boy and a bouncing dog, the three of them running with a soccer ball and laughing as they streak across the park Hugo begged her to come to, his eyes a little excited.

She should have known.

They very rarely come here.

Hugo sees them a beat later, and then he's taking off before Rachel can stop him, making a beeline for the little family. Rachel can only watch in fascination as Hugo's entire demeanour transforms as he approaches them, and something ugly twists in her chest.

Why isn't he like that with her?

Hugo gets a hug out of the boy and a fist bump from the woman. She bends a little to check his face and body, as if she's studying for any hurts, and it makes Rachel's skin crawl. Is that what she meant? Just because Santana hurt _her_; she must hurt Hugo as well?

Rachel's expression twists with rage, and her eyes narrow when the woman - Quinn - ruffles Hugo's hair and he doesn't even move away from her. She must ask after Max, because Hugo hesitates, and then points in her direction, where she's standing with Max in his pram.

The smile slips right off the woman's face, and she takes a small step away from Hugo. The boy with her seems to say something, and all three of them slowly relax. Then they're moving towards Rachel, dog in tow.

Rachel holds her breath, unsure what to expect.

It's Hugo who speaks first, smiling a little uneasily, as if he expects to get in trouble later. "Mom, this is Lex," he says, gesturing to the blonde boy at his side; "and his mom, Quinn."

Lex waves. "Hello, Hugo's Mom," he says, smiling just enough to be polite.

Before Rachel can say anything, Hugo keeps talking. "Quinn, this is my mom, Rachel," he says. "She's super sorry for what happened the last time."

Rachel flinches, and Quinn looks equally caught off guard.

Quinn manages a smile, though. "Thanks, Bud," she says, and then looks at Rachel. Their gazes meet for only a moment, and Rachel feels a little sucker-punched by the deep hazel she finds there.

But, then, Quinn's gaze moves on to Max, who is lying happily in his pram, legs suddenly kicking in excitement at the sight of this woman.

Quinn steps forward, a little bent, to greet the baby properly, and Rachel's instinct has her pulling the pram closer to her, which makes Quinn freeze. Her jaw clenches, but she says nothing as she straightens and takes that same step back. Her hand slides over Lex's shoulders, and Rachel won't dare look away from her.

"Well," Quinn says, her tone as light as she can manage. "Officer H, this monster and I have to get home so Sash can have her nap."

If Hugo senses the obvious lie, he says nothing about it. He does pout, though, and then bends to rub the top of the dog's head. "Okay," he finally says, sounding dejected.

"Hey," Quinn says. "None of that. It's Saturday. The sun's shining. There's no school on Monday. You're out with your mom and Little Bug. Today is the best day."

Hugo smiles at her, and it's a smile he very rarely aims Rachel's way anymore.

"That's the spirit," Quinn says, and then pushes Lex softly forward. "Kiddo, say bye. Sash's bed's calling."

Lex rolls his eyes, but wraps Hugo in a quick hug, and then says, "I like your sneakers," so endearingly that Rachel is charmed.

"Thank you," Hugo says, blushing slightly.

Lex grins, and then turns to Quinn. "I think Sasha just yawned."

Quinn laughs out loud, and then lunges for him, easily lifting him over her shoulder as he squeals. She looks at Hugo. "Later, H-Man," she says with a playful salute before turning serious eyes on Rachel. "Hugo's Mom." A smile for Max. "See you, Little Lamb." And then spins around, taking off with Sasha following.

Rachel and Hugo stand and watch until they can't hear Lex's laughter anymore, and Rachel suddenly feels inexplicably sad about it. She doesn't look at Hugo until she absolutely has to, because she's not sure she's willing to face his anger.

It's worse, though. He isn't even looking at her. Rather, his eyes are on Max, who is lying very still in his pram, making very little noise. It's as if Hugo is making some kind of decision in this moment, and it is profound.

Eventually, Hugo looks at her, dejection in his very being. "Can we also go home?" he asks. "I'm kind of tired."

Rachel wouldn't even dream of denying him, even throwing in ice cream for good measure.

It barely helps.

* * *

The next time Rachel sees Quinn, she's alone.

Well, _Rachel_ is alone, but Quinn is with her son. They're rolling through the aisles of the hardware store, casually talking about what tools they need for some project, and Rachel can't look away if she tries.

All she needs is to pick up some batteries for one of the clocks on the wall, and now she's been in the store for much longer than is strictly necessary. It's just that Lex's laugh is happy and free - nothing like Hugo's - and Quinn talks to him so seriously.

Rachel stays as hidden as she can manage, watching as they pick out the size of nails they're going to need. It takes her far too long to figure out her mind has settled just watching them, and, when it does, she ends up tripping over a hose and sending a few water jugs to the floor.

Of course.

All eyes turn towards her, including Lex's and Quinn's, and Rachel wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole to save her from this embarrassment. Gosh.

Without looking up, she bends to pick up all the things she's knocked over, and she gets the shock of her life when little hands come to help her.

She doesn't have to glance up to know it's Lex, and she really can't figure out what she feels in this moment. Between the two of them, the jugs are all righted and returned to their positions within moments, so Rachel has no choice but to straighten and acknowledge her little helper.

Lex is smiling up at her when she finally looks, Quinn standing with their cart about two metres behind him. "I once fell into a whole stack of toilet rolls in Target," he says. "It took Mom and I forever to put them back. She says two hands are better than one." He scrunches up his face, replaying his words. "Two _sets_ of hands, I mean," he clarifies, blushing.

"That's very true," she finds herself saying. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," he says very clearly, and then mumbles, "Have a good day," before spinning on his heel and rushing back to his mother.

Quinn acknowledges her with a raised hand, and then asks Lex, "Ready to pick some paint?" before the two of them disappear around the aisle.

Rachel is frozen in place for another full minute, before she forces herself to head to the checkout. She's even tempted to leave the batteries altogether, but she doesn't want the entire trip to prove pointless. She needs the batteries, anyway. The clock has been bothering her.

Lots of things have been bothering her.

Once she's in her car and on her way home, her heart does something. It's nothing that's ever happened to her before, and her brain won't allow her to acknowledge it's something to do with Lex. And Quinn.

_Them_.

Two complete strangers, who seem to have charmed her sons, and are now on their way to doing _something_ to Rachel.

Something she can't figure out, and something she can't decide she actually wants.

* * *

Rachel was seeing a therapist when they were still in New York. It wasn't anything regular, but NYADA offered their students ten free sessions a year, and Rachel definitely put them to use, before she graduated and had to pay for her mental health out of pocket.

On top of everything else.

The first year with Hugo was the most difficult, and she looks back at it now and wonders how she managed to survive at all. Just the fact he's still alive and healthy is an accomplishment, and she'll forever be grateful to her best friends for all they've done to help.

All they _still_ do.

Romance has always been a bit of a problem for her. Moving to New York was supposed to... change things but she quickly found herself in a similar pattern. She left Finn behind, only to find herself in another web of boys who were threatening her plans for her life and career.

And then the ultimate boy was born, and all her plans went up in a puff of smoke.

Really, if anything, Rachel could possibly be going through her quarter-life crisis just a few years late. Her career is up in the air, she can't commit to anything romantic and now she's facing all this confusion around a woman who shouldn't be affecting her at all. But she is, in ways that make Rachel want to take her children and run.

Where, she doesn't know. This entire thing doesn't seem fair. She was here first, trying to live her life as best she could, and now this woman just waltzes in and messes everything up.

Ruins everything.

Rachel can't quite pinpoint exactly what Quinn has done that's so terrible, but the situation with Hugo isn't getting better, and she can't stop the blame she places on a woman she hasn't even spoken a single word to.

It's almost as if the Universe is conspiring against her, because, now that Rachel knows who to look for, it's as if she sees Quinn and Lex everywhere she goes, with or without her own children.

On an average day, she spends time in her studio or doing voice work, and does her best to spend time with her sons, her friends or her fathers.

The evenings are usually spent at home or out with Finn while the boys are with their godparents or their grandparents.

She's really very rarely alone or not busy, and she's been toying with the idea of taking a day off and retreating to a spa or a quiet park, just to recharge. To clear her head. To settle her mind and decide what's next for her and her boys.

Rachel has options. The real problem is that she probably has too many, and she's unable to make a decision. Her career has turned down a different path, but she can't bring herself to be disappointed by it. She was forced into adjusting her dreams when Hugo arrived, and it's been worth it and more.

The thing is Rachel doesn't actually have a job. Being a songwriter/music producer doesn't really give her an office job, which works for raising two young boys, but there's only so much work one can get without having had the time to build a name for herself.

She's good, she knows, and so do a few other people in the industry. She lends her voice to her own demos, working on commission and sending out samples to bigger producers. She's had a few hits here and there, but the question she's been asked repeatedly is what now?

There's a job for her at William McKinley High School. It's the position of Music Director, leading the entire Department and shining a light on the Arts. She still has a few weeks to make her decision, but school starts in the Fall and Mr Schuester needs an answer, or he's going to have to keep looking.

Rachel used to be good at making making plans and decisions, but it's not just herself she has to consider anymore. She has children. Children who will probably grow up without a father; who she hopes won't suffer from being raised by a single parent.

Rachel doesn't kid herself. Finn won't ever be her sons' father. It isn't even that she thinks he would be a bad father; it's that they're not his, and she can tell that bothers him.

It's really the number one reason she's been unable to commit fully to him. It's not just her anymore. It's never going to be, and the fact he wants to spend time with her only when she's alone should be off-putting, but they have proved to be moments she guiltily enjoys.

It's terrible.

_She's_ terrible.

There's a self-loathing that settles deep in the pit of her stomach now that Hugo sometimes cowers from her, and there's something in her that's come to associate the feeling of failure as a mother with Quinn. It's irrational, she knows, but she can't help it. For some reason she won't put a name to, she's fixated on a woman who seems to exist everywhere now - including _in_ her son.

The problem is she knows barely anything about Quinn, or her adorable son. What she does figure out is that Quinn and Lex are never apart, from the times she's seen them out and about. Wherever Lex is, so is Quinn, which is expected, of course, but the fact Quinn is never without Lex is... strange.

From Marley, Rachel learns they're really, really new to town, so it makes sense that they would spend time with only each other.

Just, doesn't the woman work? And, doesn't she wear pants? Nobody owns that many pairs of shorts, surely. Rachel tells herself she's not looking at the woman's legs, but she definitely is.

They're very nice legs, lean and muscular, and Rachel knows she shouldn't notice, but she does, and there's a certain guilt that follows that thought. It has little to do with Finn, she knows, because they're not even together, but more to do with Quinn herself.

Objectifying Quinn seems distasteful, for some reason. Is it because Quinn is a mother? Is it because there are other, acrid feelings attached to the woman?

She doesn't know, and it all reaches a head the first time Rachel does see Quinn alone, strolling through the hardware again - Rachel stopped by to get lightbulbs for her father - and there's an odd anger that sparks at the sight of the woman's stupid easy demeanour and stupid blonde hair and stupid denim shorts.

Anger that ignites into storming towards where she's casually studying various drill bits.

Quinn visibly startles at her approach, and actually flinches when Rachel practically barks, "What did you _do_ to my son?"

Quinn drops the packet in her hand in surprise, her eyebrows shooting up. "Excuse me?"

"He barely talks to me," she forces out, waving her hands. "He barely even looks at me! Ever - ever since you _stole_ him and - and did whatever you did to him, he hasn't been the same. Do you even know what it feels like to have your son be in the same room as you and ignore you, huh? Do you have any idea how hard it already is without having to fight to get any one thing done? We haven't done anything together in weeks, and I haven't been able to get him to - " she growls in frustration. "So, what did you do to him? Everything was okay before you showed up, dammit. Who are you? Just who do you think you are? Where do you get off - "

"Mommy?" a tiny voice interrupts somewhere behind them, appearing around the end of the aisle, and Rachel comes back down to earth quite drastically.

Quinn shoots a look at Rachel that speaks volumes, and then waves a hand at Lex. "It's okay, Baby Shark," she says softly. "Mommy's okay. Look." She shows him her hand, palm up. "I'm fine. Come here. Come see."

Lex scampers towards her, tucking himself against her side, and Rachel takes a step back, mortified. What did she just do? What did she just say?

Quinn runs a hand along Lex's back. "Everything's okay," she says again, her gaze lifting to look at Rachel. "Hugo's Mom and I were just talking."

"She was yelling at you," he mumbles. "She was yelling at you like Blair did."

Quinn closes her eyes and breathes out slowly. "It's not the same, Xander," she tells him. "I promise it's not the same."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Quinn says. Then, to Rachel, she asks, "Did you say everything you need to say to make yourself feel better?" Her jaw clenches. "Because I now have a situation to deal with, and I'd much rather do that in private."

Rachel barely has time to reply before Quinn is lifting Lex into her arms, making sure he's secure, and then turning and walking away without her cart.

There's really no explanation for what's just happened, and Rachel feels very off-balance and off-kilter. What the hell just happened?

With shaky hands, she reaches for her phone to call someone. Santana. Kurt. Anyone. Just the most stable person right now. Someone who will understand. Her father? Just, someone.

She ends up calling nobody.

What she does do is buy everything in Quinn's cart, and then make sure to tell the General Manager to make sure Quinn gets it if she returns to continue her shopping. He gives her a curious look, but she doesn't give him much more information.

"Thank you," is all she says, and then heads into the parking lot. She wonders if Quinn would still be around, so she can apologise, but the duo is gone.

It makes Rachel feel worse, which she didn't even think was possible. She doesn't even know what she's supposed to do now. How is she supposed to make this better? If she even can. Hugo definitely won't appreciate her actually making it worse.

All she knows is she's probably not going to be telling her son about this incident. In fact, she thinks it's best nobody ever hears about it, because she really has no idea how she would even explain her reaction to Quinn.

She's made the decision, when she finally gets to her fathers' house, several lightbulbs in tow. Hugo is sitting with Max in the living room, playing with a few of his action figures, and her parents are moving about, spending half the time in the kitchen.

Rachel needs to hold onto this moment, because something is very seriously unraveling within her, and she's unsure how to stop it. Whatever it is.

She contemplates discussing it with her father, Hiram, just for some perspective, but she's definitely not ready for what any of this could mean. She's aware enough to have some kind of idea, but -

She's not ready, and she wonders if she'll ever be.

* * *

Later, after Rachel has taken a long bath and put Max down for the night, Hugo does the thing and crawls into bed with her. He gives her a brief hug and a kiss to her cheek before he shifts to the other side of the bed and starts to read the book he's brought with him.

Rachel almost starts crying; she's so shocked, and happy and sad and relieved.

Guilty, too, and a little heartbroken, because this, too, she knows has nothing to do with her.


	3. III

**III**

The aftermath of the 'Incident in the Hardware Store' - as Quinn has come to call it - isn't as harrowing as Quinn initially expects. Lex is clingy for the rest of the day, but he sleeps in his own bed and Quinn doesn't actually have to say much more than, "It's not the same," for him to believe her.

Because it's not the same.

Quinn is convinced of it.

It's different this time, because there's confusion involved with Rachel, and Quinn hasn't been confused about a woman since she was a sophomore in college.

That confusion is merely amplified when she and Lex brave a return to the hardware store the next day and the General Manager informs her that a purchase has been made in her name. He won't tell her who it is, but Quinn takes one look at the items with which she filled her cart with the day before, and she just knows.

She has no idea how she feels about it, and it takes Lex reminding her they still need to get the stencils for his bedroom to get her moving again. There's a certain discomfort that comes from accepting the purchase, because she believes it was done out of guilt and not remorse.

Maybe both.

Maybe something else.

But Quinn is trying not to think about any of that.

* * *

"Mom!" Lex shouts from downstairs. "They're here!"

"Coming!" she shouts right back, abandoning her laptop and getting to her feet.

"Can I go outside?" Lex asks.

Quinn wants to say no, but he sounds so excited, and she's already on the stairs. "Go ahead, Officer," she says, and Lex throws open the front door before sprinting out the house.

Sasha goes tearing out after him, and Quinn can hear excited yelling and Sasha barking, and she's wondering what her neighbours must think of them.

Not that she even cares.

Quinn exits the house at a more sedate pace, spotting her _Mustang_ parked beside her _Volvo_ and smiling way too wide at the sight of it. Wow, she's missed her baby. She's had it since she was s sophomore in college, fiery red and older than her father.

Quinn walks towards the commotion, her smile widening at the sight of her best friends piling out of the car and gracing her with their presence.

"There she is," Louisa says, practically rushing at her, arms spread wide and red hair shining in the sunlight. She wraps Quinn in a tight hug, even lifting her off the ground.

Quinn isn't used to this kind of affection from Louisa, because they're not really huggers, but she just bears it and waits for Louisa to come back to her senses.

"God, you definitely don't look like a city girl anymore," Louisa says, setting Quinn on the concrete once more. "Are those denim shorts?" She hollers over her shoulder at her wife, who is already opening the trunk. "Jane, check this out; Q's wearing shorts."

Quinn just shakes her head, running a hand through her hair.

"She wears them every day," Lex reveals, appearing behind Louisa with Christine in his arms.

Quinn practically squeals at the sight of her, holding out her arms. "Gimme gimme," she says, and Lex moves to hand the toddler over... only for Jane to come out nowhere and intercept, hugging Quinn quickly.

"Just thought I would get my hug in before Christine hogs your arms," Jane says, chuckling to herself.

"Smart move," Louisa comments. "Though, now that she's got the precious cargo in her arms, she doesn't have to do any offloading."

Quinn just grins at them, spins on her heel and heads into the house without looking back. The house is a bit of a nightmare, given the renovations she and Lex are attempting to do themselves, but it's really turning into a home that feels like them.

Feels younger; more modern.

Quinn has many more plans for renovations. There's a lot that doesn't need change, but she has ideas for updating the kitchen and making Lex's bedroom feel more like his own. While Louisa and Jane are here, she's planning on using them for free manual labour.

Quinn takes Christine straight to the kitchen where she sets her on the ground to play with Sasha while she prepares some iced tea for her guests. Her family.

She dilutes some in a sip-cup for Christine, and then hands it to her where she's practically sitting on Sasha and patting her head. She can hear Lex, Jane and Louisa moving around, Lex giving them the grand tour.

Quinn sets a tray out with their glasses and a selection of cookies, nuts, crackers and a small spread of cheese, all while chatting to Christine about complete nonsense. She's busy nibbling on the corner of a salt cracker when Jane enters the kitchen, bending to scratch Sasha behind the ear before tickling Quinn's sides for a beat.

Quinn laughs softly. "The kid set you up all right?" she asks.

"He did, thanks," she says. "He's busy showing Lou all the new comics he's collected since the move."

Quinn turns to lean her hip against the counter. "We found a comic book store the first week we were here, and I promised we could pay a visit at least once every week of the summer."

"Does he get one every time?"

Quinn shakes her head. "His allowance isn't that high," she says, laughing softly. "Comics are part of our negotiations, but I've been a little loose with my change the past few weeks. I kind of want to spoil him a little, just to help him adjust."

If Jane can hear her vulnerability, she doesn't mention it. "The house is lovely, Quinn," she says. "A little empty, though."

"We don't have a lot of stuff, and we kept the bare minimum of furniture after my Gran's passing." She takes a bite of her cracker. "A lot of it was outdated, anyway. I'm trying to get us into the twenty-first century. Modernise it."

"It looks like it's coming along," Jane comments. "Are we actually here to do work?"

"You've uncovered my secret," Quinn jokes, and then sighs.

Jane rests a hand on Quinn's forearm, squeezing gently. She doesn't say anything because she doesn't need to, and the two of them just spend a few moments breathing together.

Jane _knows_.

What she knows, she'll never say out loud, and Quinn appreciates her for it.

Eventually, Quinn clears her throat, and then asks, "How was the drive?"

"Long," she groans. "I was in a car with _two_ children, Luce. It was a bit of a nightmare."

Quinn laughs. "She couldn't sit still, huh?"

"At least Chris spent most of the time asleep."

Quinn finishes her cracker, her smile wide. "Thank you for bringing me my baby, though," she says. "I've missed her."

"I think Lou's going to be sad to part with her," Jane admits. "Though, I'm not. That thing is loud, and it was taking up space in my garage."

Quinn exaggerates a gasp. "You take that back."

Jane chuckles, and then reaches for a glass of iced tea. "So," she murmurs. "You mentioned something about opening up the space, yeah? Is that the wall you want to take down?"

Quinn looks over her shoulder at the wall separating the kitchen and the secondary living space. This old house has a separate dining room and separate front room, which is further sectioned off by a small entrance hall and staircase. "That's the one," she says. "Think you can come up with a plan for me? I'm pretty sure it's probably load-bearing, so you might have to engineer a beam for me." She pauses. "Please."

Jane nods, sipping at her drink. "Do you have the plans?"

"In my office."

"I'll take a look at them tonight," she says, just in time, really, because Lex and Louisa come stumbling into the kitchen then, both of them red from laughter.

"Sasha!" Louisa shouts in excitement, dramatically dropping to her knees and engulfing both Christine and the dog in a tight hug.

Lex skips around them and wraps his arms around Jane's waist. He closes his eyes and squeezes as tightly as he can manage, and Quinn takes a mental picture, feeling her chest expand at the sight.

"So," Louisa finally says, getting to her feet. "This is the place."

"This is the place," Quinn confirms, feeling oddly proud of this house she's trying to make a home for her and her son.

Louisa grins crookedly. "This place got a grill?"

* * *

"You said Lex brought up Blair?"

Quinn sighs as she sips at her Scotch, watching as Louisa flips their burger patties on the grill. She can hear Lex and Christine running around the backyard with Sasha, laughing and squealing and generally melting Quinn's heart. Jane is in Quinn's office, going over plans for the house, and Quinn wishes she were out here as well.

"It was a complicated situation," Quinn explains.

"Involving that woman."

"Hugo's mother, yes."

Louisa gives her a look. "I told you to make friends, Q; not enemies."

"It's not as if I set out to antagonise her," she says defensively. "All I was doing was shopping for fucking drill bits and she came out of nowhere and just started saying words."

"Words?"

"I think her son is freezing her out," Quinn says. "Well, I know he is, because he's called my cell a few times when things have been particularly rough."

"Dude."

"I know."

"Do you think it's a good idea to get involved in this?"

"Definitely not."

Louisa flips a patty, smiling at the grill marks she sees. "Be careful, Quinn."

She just hums in acknowledgment.

Louisa allows the topic to wane, asking, "What are the plans for tomorrow?"

"Chef Fabray Squared have pancakes planned for brunch," she says; "because we all know it's not going to be ready in time for breakfast."

"Preach."

"We want to have a picnic at this park SuperLex likes for the duck pond," she says. "Then he wants to take you bowling, before we get some pizza."

Louisa's eyes widen. "I'm not going bowling," she declares. "No fucking way."

Quinn just laughs, polishing off her Scotch. "Just you try to say no to those puppy eyes when he brings them out," she quips.

Louisa flips another patty. "Fuck."

* * *

Louisa sits back in her plastic seat, her legs spread in front of her and a groan on her lips. "I'm so tired," she says. "How on earth did I let you and your spawn talk me into bowling? I'm fucking exhausted."

Quinn laughs where she's seated beside her, just getting acclimated to the small crowd of people moving around the bowling alley. It was overwhelming at first, but Lex held her hand tightly as Louisa led them to their lane, and now it's as if they're existing in a little bubble of just themselves. "The drive wasn't that bad, was it?"

"No," Louisa says, peeking at her. "Just long. And quite boring. There's really very little to see between New Haven and Lima."

"I'll write a letter to the state," Quinn jokes.

"Speaking of writing, how's that going?"

Quinn shrugs. "Lindsey's been on my case this past week, but I got my chapter edits in," she says. "I'm not really up to writing that much these days, but I think things will pick up once Bambino starts school. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do for all those hours without him."

"I think you'll be okay," Louisa says, and then sighs heavily. "Are _you_, though? Luce, are you okay?"

Quinn puffs out a breath, unsure she even wants to answer this question. "Most days, yes," she says. "We've had an exciting start to our Lima lives."

"Kidnapping kids, huh?"

"Saving them," Quinn huffs. "I - I feel as if I should be doing more or something, but H's Mom confuses me, and his godmother, I believe, is straight up insane."

"She's the one who tackled you?"

"You would be impressed."

Louisa rests a hand on Quinn's bare knee. "Are you having any trouble?"

"With?"

"Sleeping? Nightmares? Separation? Masturbating?"

"Oh, my God."

"Drilling? Dealing? Moving on? All of the above?"

"You're honestly the worst," Quinn says, laughing. "We are not talking about any of that here."

"Any of it?"

Quinn looks away, nodding slowly. "It's growing on me," she confesses. "This place."

"Why?"

"Baby seems happier," she explains. "When he's happy, how can I not be?"

"Quinn," Louisa breathes. "Please don't do that. You _know_ not to do that, and I'm not in the mood to point it out to you."

"I'm not asking you to."

"But I will."

Quinn sighs. "I'm not unhappy," she says. "It feels different here, but I'm hesitant to say it's better. Here, we're just Quinn and Lex, new to town, without the baggage of... being who we are. Nobody knows us here, and we'll be able to make friends who never - " she stops, sudden and painful.

"Who never knew you before your longterm girlfriend straight-up disappeared in the middle of the night."

Quinn purses her lips. "Something like that, yeah."

Louisa squeezes her knee, and then sighs. "It's going to be okay," she says. "I think you both needed the change, and Lex does look happy."

As one, their gazes drift to where Lex and Jane are giggling over her bowling technique. Grandma Style, she calls it, squatting down and rolling the ball with both hands from between her legs. She's terrible at bowling. All sports, really.

Louisa and Quinn are the gifted ones in this department, and they're both wiping the floor with Lex and Jane, Christine happy to bounce around and twirl in her pretty pink dress.

"It's all that matters to me," Quinn says. "My baby boy is everything."

Louisa glances at her. "You're everything, too," she says seriously. "Especially to Lex, which means you need to take care of yourself, as well."

"I hear you, Blue," she says.

"Good," Louisa says, getting to her feet. "Now, come on, we've got a few people to school."

Quinn takes a moment to settle herself, and then stands as well. She shakes out her arms, hands and fingers, preparing herself, and then lifts her head... and promptly freezes.

Of course.

In the lane at the far end, Quinn sees Rachel, and her heart skips a beat, which is a disastrous reaction to a woman who might actually hate her.

Quinn blinks several times, forcing herself to acknowledge that Rachel is here with Finn and four other adults, one of which is the woman who tackled her. They look as if they're just arriving, and Quinn lowers her gaze to locate Hugo and Max, smiling when she sees Hugo talking to a much younger girl and Max strapped into his pram.

They obviously haven't seen them, and Quinn isn't sure she even wants to acknowledge their arrival, but she knows there's only a matter of time before Lex notices.

"Q?" Louisa suddenly says, frowning at her. "Everything okay there, Tiger?"

Quinn waves her back, using her body to shield her own, in case anyone from the first lane happens to look this way.

"Dude," Louisa says. "What's up with you?"

"They're here," she says.

"Who?"

"_Them_."

Louisa looks around immediately, and Quinn digs her nails into her arm to stop her. "Ouch," she squeaks.

"Stop acting like a child," she says. "What do I do?"

"And _I'm_ the child here," Louisa says sarcastically. "You don't have to _do_ anything, you know that, right?"

Quinn nods slowly, peeking at Rachel over Louisa's shoulder, and feeling a pang in her chest when Finn wraps an arm around her waist.

"What - what is happening to your face right now?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your face," Louisa says. "It's doing something. What is it doing?"

"What?" she squeaks. "Nothing. My face is doing nothing."

This time, when Louisa turns around, Quinn says nothing, and it takes the redhead mere seconds to locate the people Quinn has described in great detail. She takes in the group, careful and calculating, and she figures out, in a heartbeat, just what has her best friend acting so inexplicably awkward.

"Quinn," Louisa says. "Quinn, baby girl, please tell me you are _not_ crushing on that woman."

"_You_ are a child," she says dismissively. "And, of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

Louisa turns back to look at her. "I don't even know whether to laugh or cry," she says. "Honestly, you're a fucking useless lesbian for pretty, tiny brunettes who are mean to you."

"Shut up, Lou," she snaps. "This isn't that."

"Then what is it?" Louisa presses.

"It's the children," she confesses, and she honestly believes it, but she's always been honest with Louisa. "Okay, it's partly her, probably, but it's mainly the children."

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Q," Louisa says, her voice quiet.

"I know," Quinn says. "I'm not planning on doing anything."

"Just, please be careful. Please."

Quinn shrugs. "Always am."

* * *

Quinn feels eyes on her exactly eight minutes later. She's surprised it's taken this long, and even more shocked that Lex hasn't yet noticed. The bowling alley is dimly lit, sure, and the flashing lights have created a slight cover for them, but they can still see.

And, it seems Quinn has been spotted. It's her turn to bowl, as well, and she suddenly feels self-conscious. She doesn't even know if it's Rachel who's watching her, but the hairs on her neck stand on end, regardless.

"Go, Mommy!" Lex shouts from somewhere behind her, and she smiles to herself. What does she have to be worried about, anyway?

She takes a deep breath, and then works through the bowling motion, her muscle memory kicking in and ending with a strike. Lex leaps to his feet, cheering her on, and she spins around with her arms raised.

"Yeah, yeah," Louisa says, getting to her feet and gently shoving her out of the lane. "That was pure luck."

"You're just jealous, Babe," Jane calls out, laughing.

Quinn does a little victory dance with Lex, both of them doing a strange dancing monkey thing, before they move away from the lane. Quinn is a little too charged to sit, so she lifts Christine off the ground and tosses her into the air, getting an excited shriek for her troubles.

"Wanna see Mama fail?" Quinn asks Christine once she settles her on her hip. "Wouldn't it be funny if she slipped and the ball fell right out of her hand?"

Louisa shoots a glare at her. "What are you saying to my daughter?"

"Nothing," Quinn says, entirely too innocently.

Louisa just winks, and then shifts into position.

"Go, Aunt Lou," Lex shouts, dutifully everybody's best cheerleader.

Louisa glances at him. "Thank you, Alexander," she says pointedly. "You're officially my favourite."

"I thought I already was," Lex says, pouting.

"Uh huh, Aunt Lou," Quinn mocks. "I thought he already was your favourite."

"Shut it, Fabray."

Quinn laughs. "Do your worst, Ruby."

Louisa fakes a laugh, and then actually bowls, leaving four pins up. She groans loudly, and Lex rushes to hug her tightly.

"You did great, Aunt Lou," he says against her abdomen, and she rubs the top of his head with her right hand. "You'll get Mommy next time."

"Hey," Quinn complains.

Lex shoots her a pointed smirk as he returns to his seat.

"It's okay," Quinn says; "Christine still loves me, don't you, Buttercup?"

Christine holds her cheeks and looks right into her eyes. "I wuv you."

Yip.

Quinn is suffering from some serious baby fever. It's proving to be a problem, and she's going to have to do something to nip it in the bud.

"Oh, we didn't order these," Jane says behind her, and Quinn spins around to see one of the teenage servers setting a platter of starters on their lane's table.

"I know," the young woman says. "It's from Lane One."

"Excuse me?" Jane asks, her brow creased.

"The appetiser platter was ordered and paid for by Lane One," she patiently explains. "I was told to tell you 'Game on.'"

Jane looks at Quinn, who looks a little stumped.

"Um," Quinn finally recovers; "thank you."

"You're welcome," she says, and then disappears from sight.

Jane, Louisa and Lex all look at Quinn, questions in their eyes, and Quinn just points over her shoulder with her thumb towards Lane One.

Lex jumps to his feet to get a better look, and then he waves at someone. Quinn turns to see Hugo waving back, and she reaches out her free hand for Lex, so they can go and greet him. It'd be rude not to, at this point, even though it's possibly the last thing she wants to do.

Lex falls into step beside her, and Quinn makes sure to hold onto Christine as they navigate the few lanes separating both parties.

Hugo lasts barely a moment more before he's taking off to meet them halfway, skidding to a stop once he's near enough. "Hello," he says, and this is the most excited Quinn has ever seen him. His smile is a little blinding, and she wonders if he's on a sugar high.

Lex wraps him in a quick hug as he says, "We're bowling."

Hugo nods, somewhat vigorously. "I suck at bowling."

"That can't be true," Quinn says, and Hugo smiles at her. "Hey, Kid," she says. "Fancy seeing you here."

"We come at least once a month," he explains. "My mom and godmother and Aunt Brittany and my godfather and Uncle Blaine and Camila and Norah and Georgia, but Uncle Noah couldn't make it."

Quinn blinks. "Wow," she says. "That's quite the party you're having there."

His smile suddenly slips, and his brow furrows. "And Finn, I guess."

Quinn breathes out slowly. "Has something happened?" she asks, her voice low.

Hugo shakes his head. "We haven't been alone with him since that night," he confesses, and, this time, she holds an arm out, inviting a hug, and he steps into it.

They all share a laugh when Lex tries to wrap his tiny arms around both of them, and Christine even pats Hugo's head.

"Oh, hello," he says, stepping back; "and who are you?"

"Her name is Christine," Lex explains. "She's my Aunt Lou and Aunt Jane's daughter."

Quinn waits, expecting some confusion or even a question, but Hugo just takes it in stride and says, "My aunts also have daughters. My uncles have one, too. But they're all _babies_." He wrinkles his nose. "They poop a lot."

Quinn bursts out laughing, and Hugo looks mightily chuffed with himself. "So, we got sent a platter of food from your lane," she says. "Know anything about that?"

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "No, I didn't," he says. "From my mom?"

"Probably," she says. "We were coming to say hi, and find out what the stakes are for whoever wins."

"Wins?"

"We got told 'Game on,' so I'm ready to accept the challenge."

Hugo bounces on his feet. "Really?"

"Really."

Hugo reaches for her hand with one of his own, and Lex's with the other, and then drags them towards Lane One, where Rachel is waiting, alone, and looking a mixture of apprehensive and amused.

"Mom," Hugo says. "Did you really say 'Game on' to them?"

All Rachel does is nod, watching as Hugo releases their hands and steps up to her. "Is this an acceptance?" she asks, looking at Quinn for the first time.

Quinn does her best not to react the moment their gazes meet, because this is just insane. "We're about to start our last round," she explains.

"We're coming up on our third."

"We have only four capable of playing, though," Quinn explains. "This little one is smaller than the balls."

And, Rachel smiles at Christine, this wide, genuine thing, and Quinn has never seen her smile like that before. It makes whatever Quinn has been harbouring inside threaten to bloom, but she forces herself to stamp it down.

Even when Rachel shakes Christine's little hand and introduces herself.

"Well, Blaine is sitting out this round to watch the kids, so we've got six capable," Rachel says.

"Reckon we can borrow one of yours?" Quinn asks, eyes flicking down to Hugo.

"Shotgun Hugo," Lex says, on the same wavelength.

Hugo looks up at his mother with wide eyes. "Please, Mom."

Rachel takes a breath, looking at Quinn with slight hesitance.

"We'll be right over there," Quinn says, pointing to their own lane. "Beating you lot."

The challenge seems to work, because Rachel's entire demeanour seems to shift, and Quinn can't help but find her that bit more attractive. Oh, she's definitely in trouble.

"You're on," Rachel says, and Hugo jumps a little. "Would - would you like to meet the rest of us?"

Quinn hesitates, definitely not wanting to do that.

Rachel must sense it. "Another time, maybe," she offers.

"If you guys win," Quinn says; "Smiley here and I are probably going to hit the paintball place some time next week, if you guys are interested in joining us."

Rachel looks surprised by the offer, and Quinn smiles.

"Think about it," Quinn says. "And, good luck."

"We won't need it."

Hugo laughs, his head tilted back. "It's so on, Mom."

"Prepare to lose," Rachel taunts.

Quinn shakes her head in amusement. "Save it for the lanes, ladies and gentlemen," she says. "We'll let you know when we're ready, all right?"

"Send up the signal whenever you are," she says, winking, and Quinn just knows she is in deep, deep trouble.

* * *

"I'm in trouble," Quinn confesses to Louisa twelve minutes later, while Hugo, Lex and Jane discuss the best way to beat Lane One. "She winked at me."

Louisa laughs softly. "Those winkers have always been your kryptonite, huh?"

Quinn just shakes her head, and then gives the boys her attention when Lex says, "It's going to have to be up to my mom and Aunt Lou. They're our best players."

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Hey now," she says. "Don't make us carry this team. Every member is capable of some kind of contribution."

Lex's brow furrows. "Contribution," he repeats.

"Something to add," she explains softly. "We all have something to bring to the party. Even if you're not the best at bowling."

"Like what?" Hugo asks, looking curious.

"Well, Officer H, you have just about the coolest bowling shoes I've ever seen," she says, which makes him laugh. "And Space Cadet on your left there has some pretty awesome dance moves." To emphasise her words, Lex pulls a dramatic pose, which makes them _all_ laugh. "Jane Doe there has the hair to make sure we win this thing. I mean, it'd distract anyone."

"I resent that," Jane deadpans, ruffling her own dark mane that hangs down to her lower back.

Quinn blows her a kiss, and then says, "Louisville is, uh, well, I'm not really sure what she brings to the table."

Both Lex and Hugo laugh loudly, sounding happy and light in a way that makes Quinn wish for this. Every day. Just this.

Louisa just shoves her, but she's also laughing.

"What about you?" Hugo suddenly asks, and Quinn frowns. "What is your, uh, contribution?"

Quinn grins at him. "Well, HVAC, _I'm_ actually good at bowling."

She's pretty sure none of them stops laughing for the rest of the night.

* * *

Christine falls asleep in Quinn's lap before her last go, so she lets Hugo take it for her. It's impossible for them to win, so it's all just good fun now, with the boys taking turns at doing the craziest bowling walkups.

The laughter is music to Quinn's ears.

"The kid's pooped, huh?" Jane asks, settling beside her. "It's as if she knows it's time to head back."

"She just doesn't want to witness our loss," Quinn murmurs.

"Oh, Q, you know we were always going to lose," she points out. "You and Lou definitely tried to take us as far as you possibly could, but the game was skewed from the get-go."

"It was worth a try," Quinn says with a shrug. "We'll head home once those two turtles finish up. I'm also a little tired, and this Peach in my arms is a pioneer."

Jane laughs, gently rubbing a hand over her daughter's back. "She's missed you," she confesses quietly. "It's been a bit of a nightmare trying to get her not to have a tantrum every 'Thoup Thursday.'"

Quinn shrivels a little from the guilt. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Jane says, her voice barely a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the music. "Lou and I know you had to do this. For yourself, and for Lex. Never apologise for doing what we all know was best." She sighs. "It just sucks."

Quinn lightly bumps her shoulder with her own. "I'm so glad you guys are here," she says. "It's starting to feel like home here, and I'm so glad you get to see it."

"Good thing you left your car behind, huh? Giving us an excuse to make the trip."

"As if you needed an excuse," Quinn jokes.

Jane just gives her the softest look, and Quinn basks in it. The most interaction she's really had in Lima has been with her son, so she's grateful to have some adult socialisation. These are her best friends, as well, so she's going to enjoy every second of it.

"Oi," Louisa says, moving to stand in front of them. "You stealing my woman, Fabray?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "We both know J-Rod would leave you for me in a heartbeat," she teases, looking past Louisa to Lex and Hugo, who are doing their own crazy victory dances. "They do know we're losing rather atrociously, right?"

"Let them enjoy their fantasy," Louisa says. "Though, we should start wrapping up. Chris needs her dinner before we lose her to deep slumber, and my back is really starting to act up from all this bending."

Jane gets to her feet and presses a kiss to her cheek. "You really are getting old, aren't you, Detective Stone?"

Louisa rubs at her own lower back. "I really am."

Quinn also gets to her feet, steps to the right and carefully sets the sleeping Christine into her pushchair, strapping her in and then straightening. "I'm going to return the brunette monster, and concede to our adversaries, okay?"

"We'll clean up here," Jane says.

Quinn smiles her thanks, and then moves towards Hugo and Lex, who both look a little manic, if she's being honest. Too much sugar and too much excitement. She's not looking forward to trying to get Lex to calm for bed.

But, dinner first.

Pizza, obviously.

"Hey, Anti-Winners," Quinn calls out, thoroughly amused with herself. "We totally did not win."

Lex shrugs. "But we had fun."

"That is the right attitude," Quinn says, ruffling his hair. She looks at Hugo. "So, we're done with our time on the lane," she tells him. "Which means we're about to leave."

"Oh."

Quinn rests a hand on his shoulder. "The good news is you've got at least three more rounds to look forward to."

Hugo shrugs, as if that doesn't excite him.

Quinn draws him into a loose hug. "Come on," she says. "You're having fun."

"I am, now."

Quinn laughs softly. "And you'll continue to," she assures him. "But, Cool Cat and I have to admit defeat, so why don't you say bye to Balou and G.I. Jane, and then we'll head on over?"

Hugo pouts a little, but he eventually disappears behind her, and Quinn uses the opportunity to rest her forearms on top of Lex's head, which makes him laugh.

"Mommy," he whines.

"I love you, Baby Shark," she murmurs, because she really does.

He wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes as tightly as he can manage, which would hurt if Quinn wasn't used to pain.

When Hugo gets back, Quinn extends an arm, and they have their second ever group hug. Which Quinn will admit to getting used to.

"Time to face the music, Gentlemen," she says, and the three of them make their way over to Lane One, where Rachel is trying not to look smug, and the blonde woman in their group is doing a little dance behind her. Quinn barely notices anyone else, and she loves that Hugo and Lex can bring themselves to laugh at their antics.

"Well, well, well," Rachel says, folding her arms across her chest. "The wayward son returns."

Hugo giggles, lingering at Quinn's side for a moment before crossing over to his mother and allowing her to drape an arm over his shoulders. "You won, we know."

"Actually," another voice says, and Quinn flinches as the woman who tackled her pops her head out from behind Rachel for a moment; "we totally creamed you."

Hugo rolls his eyes. "Nobody likes a sore winner, Aunt Santana," he grumbles.

Rachel shakes her head at them both, her eyes trained on Quinn, not missing her reaction. "We didn't really decide on the winnings, did we?"

Quinn shrugs. "Heartbreaker there is our chief negotiator," she says, smiling at Hugo. "All decisions for our team will be made by and through him."

Hugo seems to stand a little straighter, even puffing out his chest a little. "I'll be the best chief nego - neg - "

"Negotiator," Quinn finishes for him.

Lex looks up at her. "Negotiator," he repeats.

"Someone who uses words to make deals with people," she says, trying her best not to explain using words he wouldn't understand. Broker and lucrative just won't work right now.

"Cool," Lex says, beaming at her.

Quinn squeezes his shoulders, and then looks at Rachel. "We're going to head out now," she says. "Just wanted to say thank you for the platter, and the game."

"And the loss," Rachel quips.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Goodnight."

Rachel's smile softens, which makes Quinn's mind think things it really, really shouldn't. "You're welcome, and goodnight, as well," she says. She looks as if there's more she wants to say, but she forces herself not to.

Quinn smiles at her, and then at Hugo. "I trust you'll make good choices."

"Always."

She holds out her fist. "See you soon, Officer Hugo," she says, and he bumps hers with his own.

Lex gives him a quick hug and says, "Your shoes really are awesome."

Quinn glances past Rachel to where the other five adults have moved on to their next round without Rachel. She's not really sure what to make of the group of them, and she's not willing to spend too much time thinking about it. Maybe another time.

"Until next time," Quinn ends up saying.

Lex waves at Rachel, and then the two of them turn and walk away. Quinn can't help smiling at Hugo's excited chatter she hears as he gushes over how much he loves bowling and how much fun he had with his new friend, Lex.

Quinn bends slightly and kisses the top of Lex's head. "Ready for some pizza, superstar?"

Lex does a little skip as he walks, which is really answer enough.

* * *

"Fabray, we can talk about this now, or we can talk about this now."

Quinn lifts her gaze from her laptop screen to see Louisa standing in the doorway to Quinn's home office. It's their last night here, the little family heading back to New Haven in the late morning, and Quinn can't sleep.

Louisa steps into the room and closes the door behind her, her expression serious. She shuffles closer, and then rounds the desk. The room, itself, is sparse, with just Quinn's desk, Quinn's chair, a large set of bookshelves, a leather couch along the left wall and a little desk set for Lex against the right.

It says a lot about them, really.

Louisa moves to Quinn's side, and then lifts herself to sit on the desktop, swinging her legs a little. "What are you doing?"

"Working on an edit," Quinn says, shrugging a little. "It's not really coming together the way I want, and Lindsey can tell."

"Are you really having that much trouble?"

Quinn looks away. "The character," she tries; "the character is too much like - " she stops, and Louisa doesn't need her to finish.

"Is this when we talk about Blair?"

Quinn flinches, despite herself. "Can we not?"

"Well, we could talk about your disastrous crush on Hugo's Mom."

Quinn groans. "I hate you."

Louisa rests a hand on her wrist. "Talk to me."

Quinn clears her throat. "We both know I really started writing Detective Matilda Swanson after I met Blair," she says. "Fuck, I never should have visited you at the precinct."

"You were going to meet her eventually," Louisa points out. "It was bound to happen."

Quinn sighs. "Well, she inspired a lot of my work after that, and my most popular character was born, and it's just so fucking hard to write about her now. So many things are tied in that relationship, and moving to Lima was supposed to make things better, but I haven't been able to get anything on paper."

Louisa isn't sure what to say.

"I almost want to introduce new characters and kill off Matilda," she admits, wincing. "Which is horrible, I know, but I can't. I just can't."

"What if you sent her undercover instead?" Louisa offers. "You probably need a break from her, and you can basically write around her for a while while you heal and come to terms with the fact Matilda is not Blair."

"Because Matilda wouldn't leave me?"

"Because Matilda is fictional," Louisa says.

"Doesn't mean she doesn't have the power to hurt me."

Louisa shakes her head. "Are you sure you've heard nothing from Blair?" she asks, her tone careful.

Quinn nods. "If I did while I was still in New Haven, I definitely didn't recognise it," she explains. "I don't even know how she would find me here. The only mail I've received here is a flyer for a Bible study."

"Are you going to join?"

Quinn seems to consider it. "Do you think that's what I need?" she asks, almost rhetorically. "To find a church here?"

"Do _you_ think that's what you need?"

"Divine intervention?"

"To stop you lusting over your kid's friend's mom."

Quinn pinches her leg, earning an indignant squeak. "Stop being so crass."

Louisa chuckles for a moment. "No, but, really, Quinn, is this something serious? Are there actual feelings in play, or is this really one of those instances where you're attracted to women who give you shit?"

Quinn gives her an accusatory look. "If you knew Blair was such a mess; why'd you let me get involved with her in the first place?"

"Need I remind you that she made sure you two hid your relationship from me for months," she points out. "By the time I found out, it was too late and you were already in too deep."

"Which is why if fucking hurt," Quinn whispers. "It fucking _hurts_."

Louisa considers her for a moment. "Maybe this is what you need," she muses; "a harmless fuck."

Quinn snorts in surprise. "With Hugo's Mom?"

"Why not?"

"That's just going to complicate things," she says. "It's never going to be harmless, and you know it."

"Someone else, then."

"When exactly am I supposed to do that?" Quinn asks.

"Do you have time for yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

Louisa glances down at Quinn's crotch. "Do you satisfy Little Quinn?"

"Oh, my God."

"Is what you would be saying as you approach your - "

"Shut up."

Louisa laughs loudly, unashamed. "I just want you to live your best life, Quinn," she says. "I get that you might not like to accept it, but your happiness is just as important as Little Dude's. This is your house, sure, and you're building it into something beautiful, but you seriously need to have sex once in a while."

Quinn is too amused to be embarrassed. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Louisa sighs. "Look, you've told me countless times that the best form of happiness is ensuring your own, before you can make others happy, right?"

Quinn hums softly.

"If you don't do this for yourself, you know it's going to take its toll on Lex," she says. "He can tell when you're not happy, and he feels it's his responsibility to make sure you are. That's no kind of pressure for your kid, Quinn."

Quinn clenches her jaw. She knows Louisa isn't calling her a bad mother, but there's a part of her that can't help thinking she's failed Lex in some way.

"Hey," Louisa says, tapping her chin. "It's my job, as your best friend, to make sure you and my godson are okay. It's harder to do when you're in a different state, but I will always do it, whether you like what I have to say or not."

"I know," Quinn murmurs, her gaze on her own hands. "I know. I just - I'm trying, okay? I'm trying so hard."

Louisa slips off the desk and slides arms around Quinn, hugging her head to her abdomen because there's nothing else to do.

It's funny, Louisa thinks, that they can even be this affectionate with each other. Quinn didn't grow up with it, and Louisa spent far too many years keeping people at arm's length after a terrible experience with the last boyfriend she ever had.

They're both very hard, guarded people, and it took a lot of hard work for Jane to slip through both their walls. It helps that she's no-nonsense and unafraid to say whatever's on her mind. She calls them out on their bullshit on the daily.

They all met in college, Quinn and Jane starting off as freshman roommates. They didn't exactly get along at first, clashing on many things within their shared space. They laugh about it now, but it was a trying time for them both.

Quinn admitted once that the way Jane wore her sexuality so openly made her a little uncomfortable, given she was still struggling with her own. They eventually grew to appreciate each other, though, even choosing to room together for the remaining years.

Quinn and Louisa met in a Behavioural Analysis class when Quinn was a Sophomore and Louisa a Senior. Quinn still had dreams, then, of everything. She was young and hopeful she could make some kind of difference in the world, declaring a double Major in Criminology and Creative Writing, and a Minor in Nutrition.

She was a little lost and very confused, and then she was forced into a group project with Louisa and two other students, and it changed her life.

Louisa changed her life.

Because, without Louisa, Quinn wouldn't have Lex, and it's really as simple as that. Louisa knows it just as well as Quinn does, though neither of them has expressly said the words out loud.

It's just that Louisa did the thing and called Quinn out for her potential sexuality, and Quinn reacted by starting a truly ill-advised relationship with her professor, whom she only learned was married when she tearfully told him she was pregnant a few weeks in.

It was a mess.

Sometimes, it still is.

Louisa feels responsible in some ways, because she knows she should have been more tactful. Her own reading has shown her that numerous teenage pregnancies have resulted from gay panic.

Still, here they are today, and Louisa knows Quinn believes she has little regrets. Lex is everything, which is something Louisa fully understood only after Christine arrived. Really, the second her daughter was born, Louisa re-evaluated _everything_, even going so far as to consider a career change.

Jane, of course, wouldn't let her, but Louisa _gets_ it. She understands, more than she would like to, but she vowed, the day Quinn entered the lecture theatre with red, puffy eyes and a growing life in her womb, that she would be there every step of the way.

She's never broken that vow, and she's not about to start.

"It's going to be okay," Louisa whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of Quinn's head. "Everything is going to be okay."

Quinn might be only two years younger than Louisa, but she feels like a child now. A child seeking something.

And getting it.


	4. IV

**IV**

Rachel can't possibly keep a hold of her surprise when she steps into Rose's Diner the next morning and sees Quinn and Lex in a booth with the two women and toddler from the bowling alley.

As a result, she ends up skipping a step, and it takes Finn holding her arm to stop her from actually hitting the floor, or doing something equally embarrassing.

She saw somebody different at the bowling alley. Quinn seemed younger and carefree, but the lighting was dark in the alley, and the sun is so, so bright this morning.

Now, Rachel can see very clearly, and Quinn is ridiculously stunning in the light.

Rachel makes a beeline for the front counter, her heart pounding in her chest. This isn't happening. This cannot possibly be happening.

She slides onto a stool and reaches for a menu, even though she knows it by heart. Her fingers are shaking, and she almost jumps out of her skin when Finn takes a seat beside her. If he's noticed something is wrong, he hasn't said anything, and she doubts he will.

Kitty appears in front of them a moment later, ready with a pot of coffee, and Rachel nods her head for a cup, just about managing a smile at the young woman. "What can I get you to eat?" she asks, bouncing slightly.

"I'll have a Full House," Finn says, his voice a little gruff this early in the morning.

Rachel wrinkles her nose at his order, because gross. "Are the fruit bowls ready?" she asks.

Kitty glances over her shoulder, peeking through the open window and into the kitchen area. "Yip," she eventually says. "Citrus or Summer Medley?"

She perks up a little. "Surprise me."

Kitty chuckles, but nods and disappears with their order.

Rachel reaches for her coffee, sliding it closer, and almost forgetting there are people around her. Well, that is until Finn says, "Do you think she's one of them, too?"

Rachel glances at him. "Hmm?"

He gestures towards Quinn's booth, his expression unreadable. "They're obviously lesbians. She must be one, too."

Rachel can't pinpoint what about his words and assumption sets her on edge. Also, the idea that Quinn could be interested in women is something she doesn't think she could even be considering right now.

She turns her gaze on Finn properly. "Is there something wrong with that?" she asks pointedly.

Finn sputters. "What? No. Of course not. I just mean, like, it's unlikely she's straight, right?"

"Because she happens to have lesbian friends?" she presses. "What would that say about me?" She pauses, because that's really something she shouldn't even be dropping into the Universe, and she immediately moves on. "Or you," she adds. "If that applies to Quinn, it must apply to you, right?"

Finn looks horrified, and Rachel has the urge to throw her coffee in his face. Wow. "That's - that's not what I was - "

"Just stop, Finn," she snaps. "You've already made an ass of yourself." She forces herself to calm, and, when she looks back at Quinn's booth, both Quinn and the redheaded woman are looking at her, expressions carefully neutral.

Well.

Rachel turns back and sips at her coffee, breathing slowly. All of a sudden, she wishes she never got out of bed this morning. She should have slept in, but she had to get her boys ready for their grandparents, who promised them a trip to the aquarium.

Finn just happened to be awake and asking for some attention, so she found the energy from somewhere. Breakfast seemed like the safest option while Rachel tries to get a handle on just what she's feeling about her life and her career.

And her relationships.

Rachel knows she shouldn't be lumping Quinn into that mess, but she can't help it. This is something she's really going to have to consider. She has to take the time to think about it and try to figure out all her feelings surrounding it. Whatever it is.

Kitty eventually brings out their meal, and Rachel is able to focus on that, choosing rather to chat to Kitty about how her summer is going over trying to hold some kind of conversation with Finn, whose every word just manages to annoy her.

Rachel has experienced some intense changes in her life, but this feels different. Most of the other changes have been exterior and external. This, however, is internal, and it feels as if it's going to be permanent.

When she does allow herself to think about it, she knows there's a part that's going to be devastating.

Just the idea of it makes her want to hide away somewhere and never see another living soul again. It's almost as if she thinks people will know how she's struggling, just by looking at her, and she doesn't know how she feels about that.

She doesn't know anything.

Abandoning her fruit to her sudden lack of appetite, Rachel excuses herself to the bathroom, momentarily forgetting that she has to walk past Quinn's booth. They don't fall silent, which is a relief. She's convinced they barely notice, because she ends up hearing Lex say, "Mommy says we're going to be _three_ children in the car, Aunt Lou," which is followed by a chorus of soft laughter.

And, if Rachel is unfairly tuned into the sound of Quinn's... well, then, she's probably in more trouble than she initially thought.

She eventually makes it to the bathroom and immediately slips into a stall, just needing a moment to settle her head and heart. She needs to go home and regroup. She needs to get out of here, go somewhere where she can be alone, and think hard about what can and can't happen.

It takes a few minutes, but she finally feels stable enough actually to use the toilet, just the fact she's in here prompting her bladder into protest. Typical.

With a sigh and a flush, she's convinced she's ready to face the day, once more. Which is a belief that's derailed when she open the stall door and visibly startles when she finds the redhead standing there, leaning against the counter of sinks. It's obvious she's waiting for Rachel, and it takes everything for the brunette to step forward and face whatever this is.

Once she's at the sinks, she lathers her hands in soap, and then starts to rinse them, all while waiting for this woman to say something. If she and Quinn are as close as Rachel suspects they are; then Quinn has probably told her everything that's happened between them so far.

Rachel even gets to drying her hands with a paper towel before the woman finally opens her mouth, saying words that Rachel expects, but also doesn't.

"I couldn't do anything to protect her from the last person who hurt her," she says, her voice tense. "This time is going to be different."

Rachel looks at her face, not sure she's ready to hear this.

"I don't know what you've got going on, and I don't care," she says. "But Quinn does. For whatever reason, she seems to care about you, and your sons, so you really need to get your shit together because I'm not going to sit idly by and watch you create chaos in my best friend's life."

Rachel feels indignant, because she's pretty sure she hasn't done enough to deserve this kind of dressing-down.

This warning.

At Rachel's expression, the woman's ire dissipates quite suddenly, and she deflates right before Rachel's eyes. "I know I have no right to say any of this, not really, but I have one request," she says, her voice low. "Please, please be careful with her. With them. They're much to precious for this world, and I made a vow to protect them. Don't make me have to protect them from you, too, because I will."

All Rachel can manage is a single nod before the woman is stalking out of the room, the door swinging noisily behind her.

* * *

Somehow, by some miracle, Rachel is able to move Quinn to the back of her mind, keeping her there as she navigates the next few days without completely losing her mind. Things haven't necessarily improved with Hugo, but they haven't worsened, and Rachel has been finding endless excuses not to spend time with Finn.

She wouldn't call the days easier in any way, but there's something rewarding about dedicating her focus and attention only to her work and her sons. It's the way it's supposed to be, she knows, but she can't help wishing there was more to her life.

The thought is coupled with a lot of guilt, and she struggles to shake it off in time to have the usual suspects over for what is one of two monthly dinners - this one at her house. In general, Rachel surrounds herself with two groups of people, and one is less rowdy than the other.

It's really a tossup which is which, though - particularly when there's alcohol involved.

She aims to use the evening to distract herself, but that desire gets derailed entirely when Noah brings up the one person from whom Rachel wanted to be free for the night.

Just her luck, really.

"You'll never guess who came into the office today," Noah says entirely too casually.

Rachel looks up from the pasta sauce she's stirring, the two of them the only ones in the kitchen. "Who?"

"Kidnapper Lady."

Rachel freezes for merely a beat of her heart, but she doesn't think he notices. She doesn't know what to do with that information. "Oh?"

"She didn't recognise me," Noah says. "I half expected her to see my face and go for another punch, but I guess she didn't remember me from that night."

Rachel almost wishes Quinn didn't remember her, either, so they can start over or something. It's a thought that strikes her as odd, because why would she even want that? She clears her throat. "What did she want?"

"Apparently, she's taking down a wall in her house and redoing her kitchen," he explains. "She needs some labour."

Rachel doesn't even know what to say to that.

"I offered to head out to her house and check if everything was up to code, you know, because - " here, he pauses and waggles his eyebrows, and Rachel feels like she's going to throw up. "She said no."

"Oh?"

"She has all the permits and an architect even signed off on all the plans," he says with a shrug. "Didn't seem like this was her first renovation, so of course I was fucking turned on."

Rachel focuses quite hard on her pasta sauce, wanting nothing more than to say something, anything, to turn him off of Quinn. It just -

She can't do this.

Whatever this is.

"I also totally asked her out," Noah says a moment later. "She shot that down, too, claiming she doesn't mix business with pleasure." He whistles to himself. "When this job is done, though, I am totally gonna - "

Rachel's spoon slips, and a dollop of pasta sauce ends up flying towards Noah, landing on his shirt.

"Shit," he yelps. "Rach, watch it."

"Sorry," she says, trying to find him a dish towel to clean it up. "I wasn't paying attention."

Noah huffs out a breath as he sets his beer on the counter and dabs at the front of his shirt with the located dish towel. "Guess it's my fault for distracting you," he quips, grinning a little crookedly. "I'm going to head out there and see if I can get Hugo to play _Mario Kart_ with me."

Rachel just waves him off, needing the space, because this is just getting ridiculous.

_She's_ ridiculous, and she needs to get a hold of herself really quickly, or this evening is going to be a disaster.

Well.

She glances down at her pasta sauce, and she almost wishes it would burn or something. Maybe they should just order in; make it a pizza night instead of whatever culinary feat she's trying to accomplish. That seems like the best idea right now, because her head really isn't in it tonight.

With a sigh, Rachel switches off the burner and shifts the pot to a different one, just to be safe. There's an odd melancholy in her entire being, and it has a lot to do with the unknown situation with Hugo and her growing confusion about Quinn. Just thinking about it makes her queasy.

She's trying to be careful.

Rachel eventually abandons the stove completely and leaves the kitchen. She picks up her phone on her way, and steps into the main lounge where everyone else in the house has congregated.

Noah and Hugo are setting up the game station, her parents are discussing flowers with Max over their wine and Marley is reading a novel while lounging on an armchair in the corner. Rachel can't suppress her smile at the complete scene, feeling her spirits lift a little.

"So," she says, getting their collective attention. "I'm thinking pizza. Who's game?"

She even gets a grin from Hugo.

Maybe the night won't end in disaster.

* * *

Rachel speaks too soon, obviously, because she should know that Noah is always going to bring up Quinn again, which really starts an entire conversation about the woman.

The woman Rachel has failed to mention to her fathers beyond the fact she maybe kidnapped their grandsons. She also hasn't been able to tell them she's feeling all sorts of things for a woman with whom she's had some rather intense interactions.

So, Noah brings her up, which prompts Marley to gush about her and Lex, which gets Hugo especially chatty about his new friends, even saying things she's sure he can't possibly know. They haven't spent nearly long enough together for Hugo to know Quinn and Lex are obsessed with pancakes and bacon, or that they visit a comic store at least once a week.

Rachel's suspected Hugo has been contacting Quinn and/or Lex somehow for quite a while now, but she's been unable to pinpoint when he does it, and she also doesn't want to bring it up, in case it enlarges the gulf that currently exists between them.

Despite the rockiness in their relationship, things are somewhat settled at the moment. There's a bit of pride in that, she knows, and she won't allow her brain to connect the dots as to why her boys are more present with her when Finn isn't around.

It's right there, though, on the tip of her tongue, and there's a point when she's going to have no choice but to accept it for what it is.

Which is why it's unsurprising when that 'point' involves Quinn.

Apparently, they're making a thing of meeting at the hardware store, though it's actually in the parking lot this time, just two days later. Rachel is leaving, just as Quinn and Lex are arriving, and the women pass by each other, both of them a little awkward.

Quinn is the one who says, "Hello," first, Lex dutifully at her side.

"Hi, Hugo's Mom," Lex says, only a little awkward.

"Hello, Lex," Rachel says, managing to smile at him. "Quinn."

Quinn cocks her head a little to the side, and then tells Lex to go and get a cart; she's right behind him.

He looks at them uncertainly for a moment, but eventually scurries away, leaving the women alone for only the second time ever.

Quinn clears her throat. "I, uh, wanted to say thank you for the supplies," she says. "I hope you know it was unnecessary."

Rachel blinks. "It felt like it was completely necessary, and not nearly enough," she says, dropping her gaze. "I - I said some pretty horrible things."

"I've definitely heard worse," Quinn interjects. "Just, well, thank you."

"I am sorry, you know," Rachel says, and she really, really is. "I've been struggling with a few things, and you definitely didn't deserve my just going off on you like that."

"But somebody else does?"

Rachel can't bring herself to answer.

"You, perhaps."

Rachel opens her mouth, and then closes it again. She reasons Quinn doesn't require any kind of response, anyway. She already knows. Rachel suspects Quinn knows far more than Rachel thinks, and she's still unsure what to feel about that. What to feel about _Quinn_.

"You're staring at me," Quinn suddenly says, and Rachel blinks slowly at her, coming out of her slight trance. "Why?"

Rachel meets her gaze. "Why what?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

Rachel blinks again. "Hugo," she says.

"Excuse me?"

She clears her throat, trying to get a hold of herself. "Hugo was wondering if he and Lex could have a play date one of these days," she says, just managing to get the words out without making an even bigger fool of herself.

Quinn looks sceptical. "Are you sure you would be comfortable with that?"

"Would you?"

"How would this work?" Quinn asks, ignoring her question. "Because, I don't mind having both boys over, if you want a day off or something."

Rachel's mouth drops open. "Both of them?"

"Sure," Quinn says. "Why not? Hermit and the rat can have their fun, and so can Little Lamb and I."

Rachel's brow creases. "Do you always use nicknames?"

"What?"

"Whenever you talk about the kids, you refer to them by random nicknames all the time," she points out. "Why?"

"They're not random," Quinn says, as if it's a point of pride to her. "And, I don't know why. I just do."

Rachel thinks she might have touched a nerve, so she steers away from it. "Would you really be willing to have them both over?"

"Of course," Quinn says. "I don't mind at all."

"Amazing."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, no, it's just that most people can usually handle only one of them at a time, and that's usually Hugo, because he's older and well-behaved, thereby requiring less supervision."

"But Maxi's so cute," Quinn says. "Who could ever deny that face?"

"I think you just get to experience him when he's being good," Rachel says. "He's not always so chill."

"When is he not?" Quinn asks, frowning slightly.

"Oh, just whenever - " she stops suddenly, because her mouth was about to say _whenever Finn's around_, and that thought makes her supremely uncomfortable.

Quinn raises her eyebrows, her eyes a little too knowing. "Well, our schedule is pretty flexible, so whenever works for you will probably work for us."

Rachel has so many questions, but she wouldn't even know where to start. She wouldn't normally just leave her children with someone she barely knows, but she can't help the fact she trusts this woman. The mere thought is terrifying, because she knows next to nothing about her.

"Can I let you know?" Rachel asks.

Quinn nods. "Of course," she says. "I won't even need that much of a head's up, really. You could just text in the morning, and then just drop them off whatever time. Though, depending what I have in the fridge, we might head to the diner at some point. H says he's not allergic to anything, but I don't really know about Little Bug. I don't want to end up feeding him something that would send us to the Emergency Room. I do have an EpiPen, you should know. I have a bee allergy, so I think we'd be okay. Can't ever be too careful, though, and I - " she stops, as if catching herself. "You're staring again."

Rachel is charmed.

Just so very charmed.

Quinn waves a hand in her face, smiling amusedly. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm just imagining the beauty that would be an actual day off," she finds herself saying, and Quinn laughs in understanding. "Sorry about that."

"No worries, Poppy," she says. "Whenever you're ready, just let me know. You have my number."

"I do?"

Quinn gives her a sceptical look. "Didn't you ever get that voicemail I left?"

It's the first time Rachel realises she's never actually talked to Quinn about that night and that message. What was the incident to which she was referring?

"Oh, right," Rachel says. "Of course."

Quinn gives her a curious look. "Okay."

Rachel licks her lips, pondering her next words. "I - I wasn't sure what to make of it, at first," she explains. "That night was... a lot."

Quinn internally scoffs, because that's definitely an understatement.

"Hugo was so angry when we got home, and I couldn't really figure out why," Rachel continues. "I still don't really know. When I asked him what happened, he wasn't very forthcoming, and even - " she stops, rethinking bringing up Finn. For some reason, she doesn't feel right talking about the man in front of Quinn; as if she's aware, subconsciously, that she's hurting her.

Quinn shifts from her left foot to her right. "H-Man didn't tell you what, exactly?"

Rachel wrinkles her nose. "Why he would ever get into a car with a complete stranger."

"Isn't it obvious?"

Rachel shakes her head, clearly confused.

Quinn runs a hand through her hair, wondering if the next words she says are going to spell disaster. Still, she opens her mouth and says, "He felt safer with me," and it takes a long moment for the words to sink in.

"What?"

Quinn smiles a little sadly. "You should talk to Hugo," she says, serious enough to use Hugo's first name. "I think you definitely need to talk to your son."

* * *

Rachel Berry never intended to be a mother so young. She had her entire life planned out, year by year, written out to play out exactly the way she wanted.

Then a positive pregnancy test derailed everything.

She has regrets, of course, but Hugo isn't one of them. Does she wish he arrived a little later in life? Yes. Does she wish she'd been able to bring him into a more stable relationship? Definitely. Would she do anything different? Probably.

Rachel has never looked at her son and resented him, which is a point of pride for her, because her life and career goals drastically changed the moment she decided a baby was going to be part of her future.

Her present.

She's aware she's made sacrifices, struggled through finishing school and supporting herself and her babies. All with help from her fathers and her best friends of course. It really was a wild time bringing a baby boy into a college apartment with three struggling artists and a rogue father/partner.

Rachel has lived a lot of years since then. So have her friends. All of them trying and ultimately deciding the New York life wasn't for them. Rachel is the one who stuck it out the longest, forcing herself to make things work with Brody - especially with Max on the way - but it all imploded.

Santana made the move back first, having decided a simple life with Brittany was something with which she would always be happy. Now, she's the Sporting Director and cheerleading coach at William McKinley, with Brittany running her own dance studio downtown.

Kurt's time at NYADA didn't disillusion him about what he already knew about his chances of getting roles on Broadway. He's too niche, and he conceded to the life of a boutique store owner, running his own small design business, from prom dresses to wedding tuxedos. All while his husband, Blaine, works as the Music Director at Dalton Academy, determined to nurture young minds to love and appreciate music in its various forms.

Blaine likes to joke he picked Dalton, because he had an inkling Rachel Berry would, one day, make her return to Lima and claim the job at William McKinley. Which, honest-to-God, makes her skin crawl at the mere idea they believed she would end up back here.

Noah never quite left.

And, yet, here Rachel is, having made her fateful return a little over a year ago, a little heartbroken and a lot angry and very pregnant. She'd been in Lima barely a few months before Max was born, and, as far as she's aware, his father hasn't even met him.

Well, Rachel knows a thing or two about absentee parents. Shelby is probably the number one reason she knew she could never give up her child. It didn't matter that she was young and still a student and totally unprepared for motherhood; Rachel Berry was always going to do everything in her power to be the best mother possible.

This is the first time in her life she's truly believed she's actually failing.

Quinn's words ring in her head the entire drive home, taunting her. _He felt safer with me_. It makes her body hurt, just thinking about what they imply.

It can't be.

No.

She won't believe what the words could mean.

She would know.

Of course she would know. These are her babies. These are the most important people in her life, and she - there's -

Rachel realises she's actually crying when she can no longer see the road, and she's forced to pull over before she causes some kind of accident. The paperwork would just be a nightmare.

It takes a while for her to calm enough to continue on her way home, but her mind is still whirling. She doesn't even know what to do with herself. All she really wants is to wrap her arms around her babies and hold them close for all of eternity.

So, when she gets home, she goes in search of her sons, getting the surprise of her life when she finds Finn, instead of Noah, sitting in her living room with Hugo and Max huddled together on the carpet, as far away from the man as possible.

Rachel freezes at the sight of them, not sure what to make of the situation. None of them has seen her yet, and she doesn't want this to be the moment she explodes, because she doesn't know how that's all going to play out. She could be mistaken. This isn't -

The home phone starts to ring, and Rachel startles where she's hidden behind the large arch that leads into the living room. Hugo gets to his feet to answer it, and she hears him say, "Hello, Hugo speaking." A pause. "Oh."

Rachel immediately knows who's on the other end of the line, and she's actually relieved.

"I know you wouldn't," Hugo says. "She would probably nag it out of you." There's a little giggle, and Rachel feels a smile creep on her face, right until Finn's voice sounds.

"Who are you talking to?"

Rachel sees Hugo grow tense, his body turning to face Finn. "Nobody," he says to Finn, and then whispers into the phone, "He's here, yes."

"It's obviously not nobody," Finn says, getting to his feet.

Hugo stumbles back, "You said she's coming home, right? She'll be here soon?"

Rachel almost steps in at that moment, but Finn grabs the phone and brings it up to his ear, barking out an irritated, "Who is this?" His face twists into an angry scowl at whoever is on the other end. "Of course, it's you."

Rachel can almost imagine the steel in Quinn's voice when she replies, and she's just relieved that Hugo has moved as far away as possible, his body between Max and Finn.

"Why are you calling this number?" Finn asks, accusatory. "Just stay away from us. Everything was fine before you came along."

Finn's words strike Rachel even worse, because she's said similar ones to Quinn, and there's such shame attached to them now.

"What did you think you were doing getting involved in things that have nothing to do with you? Oh, because you're a Good Samaritan? I wasn't _smothering_ him." Rachel's fists clench. "Sometimes there's no other way to get the brat to shut up."

Rachel blinks back tears, because this is her fault. This is a man she's brought into her sons' lives and he's created chaos. She can barely make sense of it, but she does understand the sudden desire to punch his face and kick his shin.

Then Finn says, "All she's done is spend time with them since that night, and it's your fault I haven't been la - "

Rachel steps into view. "Finn!" she snaps, and the entire room freezes. For a few pulsing seconds, nobody moves, as the reality of the situation sinks in. Eventually, Rachel kicks herself into gear, and she walks towards him, takes the phone from his hand and brings it up to her ear. "Quinn?"

"Oh, uh, hello."

"Thank you," she says, and she means it. "I'll take it from here."

"Aim for the balls," she quips, and then hangs up.

Rachel breathes slowly, and then says, "Hugo, please take your brother upstairs and stay there until I come and get you."

Hugo visibly hesitates, looking between the two adults.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," she says soothingly. "I promise it's okay. Take Max upstairs. Mom will handle this."

It takes another moment, but he eventually gets to his feet, and moves out of the room backwards, Max clutched to his chest.

Rachel waits, steadying her breathing, until she can no longer hear his feet on the stairs. Then she turns her gaze, hard and calculating, on Finn, and she hates him.

Hates in a way she didn't even know was possible, because he was once a boy who was part of her plan. She loved him as a teenager, and she was convinced she could love him as an adult.

Now, though, now she _hates_.

"I'm going to ask once and only once, so I suggest you answer me truthfully," she says, her voice measured. "Have. You. Ever. Laid a hand on either of my sons?"

"Rach, I can - "

"Answer the question," she instructs.

Finn blinks. "It's not what it - "

"Finn, I swear to all that is holy, if you don't answer the question, I will tear out your spine and feed it to you." She pauses. "If you had one."

Finn gulps. "It - it was one time."

Rachel releases a tense breath, because, even if that were true, it's one time too many. She takes a step back and does her best to weigh her options. She should make a gigantic deal out of this, but she can't. She doesn't want to put her sons through that.

So she says, "Get out."

Finn looks shocked. "What?"

"Get out of my house," she says, clear and pointed. "If you ever come near me or any member of my family again, I will unleash a world of pain on your pathetic existence." She clenches her jaw. "And that's even before I involve Santana, which, I can assure you, you don't want."

Finn audibly gulps.

"Do I make myself clear?" she asks, because she needs him to understand. She's already mentally preparing an email to her lawyer to discuss her options.

Finn nods, though there's a certain rage burning in his eyes.

"Good," she says. "Now, get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see you again."

Finn lingers a moment, as if she'll change her mind, and then huffs out angrily. He mutters something under his breath that sounds worryingly like _this is all that bitch's fault_, and then finally leaves.

Rachel doesn't move until her heart rate has steadied. Even then, she waits another few minutes, because this isn't anything she thought she would ever have to deal with in her lifetime.

Shaking out her limbs, she finally goes upstairs, panicking slightly when she doesn't find Hugo in his bedroom, but rather in hers. Her boys are curled on her bed, Hugo reading a baby book to Max, even though he doesn't understand a word.

Rachel just stares at them for the longest time, eventually moving to sit on the bed, her back against her headboard, knees to her chest and her heart in her throat. She wants to cry again, but she won't do that in front of her babies. She can hold it in for now.

At some point, Hugo crawls across the bed and tucks himself against her side, Max fitting between them. "Are you okay, Mom?"

She's not, but she won't lie, so she says nothing. Instead, she wraps an arm around them both and vows never to let go. "I'm sorry, honey," she murmurs, kissing the top of Hugo's head. "I'm sorry Momma didn't see."

Hugo sags against her.

"I understand now," she says quietly. "Why you've been so angry with me and Aunt Santana. Why you like Quinn so much. She saw it, and she protected you and Max where we didn't. She kept you safe where we failed."

Hugo still says nothing, and Rachel doesn't expect anything else. He does sniffle a bit, and she tightens her hold on him.

"I promise, promise you'll never have to see him again," she vows, strong and determined. "I love you," she says, closing her eyes and just breathing him in. "I love you, more than anything, all the way to the moon and back."

"I love you, too, Mom," he says into her shirt, and those are the last words he says before he falls asleep, slipping into what must be an exhausted nap.

Rachel doesn't think she'll be able to do the same. It's not even that late, which is really the only reason she feels comfortable enough to reach for her phone to text a certain blonde. First, though, she finds a text from Noah informing her that he had a work emergency and asked Finn to cover the babysitting for him.

That's never going to happen again.

Rachel opens a new text thread with her newly-entered contact and stews for several minutes over what to send first.

Eventually, she just sucks in a breath and goes for it. It doesn't even matter. It's just a text. To a woman. Whom she may or may not harbour several confusing thoughts and feelings about.

Totally simple.

_Hey, Quinn, this is Rachel, Hugo's Mom. _

_Who's Hugo_?

It makes Rachel smile, and her heart swells a little because of it.

_a.k.a. Heartbreaker._

_Never heard of him_.

Her smile widens, and she feels so stupidly ridiculous.

_So, I was just texting about that play date I mentioned. I seem to be running low on potential babysitters, all of a sudden._

_That's a lovely problem to have. I'm listening_.

* * *

Lex is the one to answer the door just two days later, Quinn standing a few feet behind him and wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Hello," Lex says, smiling so widely that it must hurt.

"Hey, Lex," Hugo says, practically vibrating where he is.

"Do you want to go upstairs and look at my comic books?" Lex asks, looking equally excited.

Hugo nods. "Totally."

Lex grabs for his arm and drags him inside, the two of them shooting for the stairs.

"Hi, Quinn," Hugo shouts.

"No running," Quinn shouts back, and their steps slow for only a moment before they're on the landing and out of sight.

Rachel just stands in the doorway, Max squirming in her arms and feeling supremely awkward being left alone with Quinn when she doesn't want to tear at her throat.

Quinn smiles a little hesitantly as she steps closer. "You can come in, you know," she says, waving a hand. "You'll just have to excuse the mess. We're doing quite a bit of renovation in here."

Rachel almost tells Quinn she knows, but she holds her tongue. "Hi, Quinn."

"Hello." She steps up, to look into Max's eyes. "Hello, you." Her smile is so genuine that Rachel feels her heart expand. "Aren't you looking handsome in your little outfit?"

Max gurgles something or the other, his arms reaching for her. Quinn looks at Rachel, trying to gage her reaction to her approach.

It takes her a moment, but Rachel eventually hands him over, doing her best not to hang on.

Quinn practically lights up when she has Max, her hands on his sides as she lifts him up above her head for a moment. Max giggles at the attention, and Rachel is struck by this moment.

This moment when she wants this.

She wants all of this, more than anything in the world, and that's -

She's not ready for any of that.

Quinn settles Max against her hip and looks at Rachel. "Are you in a rush? Do you want to come in for a bit? I kind of want to tell everyone I meet about my renovation."

Rachel thinks the best idea is to step back and leave, but her feet propel her forward, and Quinn looks so adorably pleased.

"It's a bit of a disaster zone at the moment," Quinn explains. "We're currently using our dining room as a makeshift kitchen, and the front room is our living room while we redo this entire left side."

Rachel follows her as she ducks under a tarp that separates them from the worksite.

"The room is large enough to extend the kitchen, and I love myself a gigantic island," Quinn continues as they step over some plaster and into what is the kitchen. Sort of. All the cabinet doors are down and the floor has been redone with a dark wood. "I'm thinking of doing a two-tone cabinet."

"Two-tone?"

Quinn turns to look at her. "Oh, uh, white cabinets at the top, and then a grey for the bottom ones, with the island being wood." She smiles. "White top on the counters, and then a lovely quartz on the island. I'm making it a feature."

Rachel should probably understand all of this, given the amount Noah talks about his work, but it's really all gibberish to her. She's content just watching Quinn gush over her kitchen, though.

"I can do a lot of the work myself, so we should have it done soon," she says. "I've already done the painting on the cabinets, which are drying out back, so I'll finish that up in here, and then the countertops should be able to go on. Oh, you have to see the tile I chose for the backsplash." She does a bit of a hop, and then bends to retrieve a blue chrome subway tile. "I'm thinking of a herringbone pattern for this, right up to the ceiling."

Rachel just nods, trying to follow.

Quinn stops, flushing slightly. "Sorry," she says. "I forget people don't generally know what I'm talking about when I say stuff like that."

"Do other people?"

"In my life, yes," Quinn says, setting the tile in its box again. "Do you remember those two women who were with us at the bowling alley?"

Rachel nods, because it's highly unlikely she'll forget them any time soon.

"Well, they're friends from college, and, after graduation, we all kind of started this flipping company on the side," she explains. "We learned quite a lot about design and building in the process."

Rachel blinks. "That's actually really cool."

Quinn grins at her, which makes Rachel feels hot all over. "If I could do it all myself, I would, but I kind of need the help to get it done quickly."

"You hired someone?"

Quinn nods. "A local contractor, as far as I'm aware," she says, frowning slightly, as if the experience wasn't all that pleasant. "A few of his guys are supposed to stop by this afternoon to help put the cabinet doors back up and get everything ready for the countertops and new sink. I hope that's okay."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Uh, I don't know how comfortable I'd be having a bunch of strange people around my kids," Quinn says a little awkwardly.

Rachel winces internally, knowing that Noah's guys probably know Hugo and Max already. "Well, I mean, it's Lima, so the chances they're actually strangers to my kids is quite minimal."

"If you're sure."

"I trust you, Quinn."

Quinn looks a little surprised at first, but a soft smile spreads across her face a moment later. She looks so beautiful like this, and Rachel has an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch her.

She goes for Max instead, tickling his side. "Well, I should probably get out of here."

Quinn nods, gesturing for her to lead the way back out. "What are the plans for the day, anyway? If you don't mind my asking."

"The Spa with Brittana and Kurt," she says automatically.

"Who?"

"Oh, uh, Brittana is the couple name we use for Brittany and Santana, and Kurt is Hugo's godfather. They were all at the bowling alley that night."

Quinn clenches her jaw. "And at the Diner, I presume."

Rachel hesitates, and then nods, wondering if this is the moment she should mention everyone else in her immediate circle. She wants Quinn to know her and her life, but she's caught between wanting to divulge everything and making sure they keep their lives as separate as possible.

Rachel doesn't think she could be just her friend, which means she has to choose the safest end of the spectrum, and that end is as far away from this unsuspecting woman who seems to hold her son so easily and interact with Hugo like he's a person and not just a waste of space.

It's amazing, and Rachel isn't sure she deserves it.

"Thank you for watching them," Rachel says. "Normally, they go to my parents when we're all busy, so I'm sure they're also looking forward to a day off, as well."

Quinn looks a little curious, as if she's also actually interested in learning about Rachel.

It's definitely not helping with Rachel's resolve. Whatever may or may not happen between them, she needs to nip it in the bud.

They can't do this.

She can't do this, even if she might want to.

Which she doesn't.

She definitely doesn't.

Quinn walks her to the front door, smiling gently, as if she knows what Rachel is struggling with. If she does, well, that would be mortifying, and Rachel needs Quinn never to know that she wants to take a picture of Quinn holding Max and make it her wallpaper.

Wow.

Okay.

"Is there a specific time you want me to pick them up?" Rachel asks, suddenly remembering the diaper bag hanging off her shoulder. She slips it off and sets it on the first stair.

"Not really," Quinn tells her. "Whenever you're ready is fine with me."

"Even nine o'clock, huh?" Rachel jokes.

Quinn gives her a very serious look. "Whenever you're ready," she repeats, and it feels as if she's saying something else entirely.

* * *

There is champagne at the spa.

Lots of it.

It's really the one saving grace, because Rachel is tense and confused and anxious. She needs a day away, but she also needs her friends to figure out what's wrong with her so she won't have to say any of it out loud. Not that she believes anything is _wrong_. It's just -

Rachel downs her first chute in less than a minute, which makes Santana nod approvingly.

"How did you get Blaine to babysit?" Santana asks Kurt, casually sipping at her own champagne as they wait to be called for their massages.

Kurt smiles a little slyly. "I promised him many, many things."

"Gross."

Brittany laughs, casually twirling around.

Santana looks at Rachel. "And your parents were okay with watching the boys?" she asks.

Rachel gulps another mouthful of champagne. "Of course," she squeaks. "Five kids would have been way too much for poor Blaine."

"They would have eaten him alive," Kurt says, clearly agreeing.

Rachel downs the rest of her second glass, unsure why she can't bring herself to tell her best friends that her children are actually with Quinn. She doesn't think they'll approve, for whatever reason, and she's still trying to figure out why she even cares.

It doesn't help that she also hasn't been able to explain that she and Finn are beyond over; that she will never see the man again, if she can help it. Telling them about the way Finn treated her sons would also cause unnecessary drama, because Kurt is his stepbrother and Santana would probably try to kill him.

Rachel wonders if she didn't do enough. If she should have _showed_ Hugo the way she's protecting them both. All three of them. It's a doubt that's plagued her mind, but what is more alarming is that the person she wants to discuss it with is Quinn.

She's already finished her third glass of champagne by the time they're called.


	5. V

**V**

Quinn is busy studying the contents of her fridge when she hears a truck pull into the driveway. With a sigh, she closes the door, checks that Max is suitably occupied in the front room and goes to open the door before someone rings the doorbell.

She steps onto the front porch to see a crew of three emerging with a selection of tools. They're all young, late teens, maybe early twenties. All boys, too, and Quinn would probably prefer it that way.

They introduce themselves as Jake, Bruno and T, all of them trying a little too hard to appear macho. They also all openly check her out, and she finds it in herself to roll her eyes and ignore it. She can handle a few children.

As long as they do the work, she doesn't care if they look. She's aware she's the left side of attractive, but she draws the line at touching. She will break fingers if necessary.

Quinn leads the way into the kitchen area, which she's carefully primed for them. In her mind, they should be able to get what she needs done in less than three hours, which is a calculation she makes based on how long it would take her single pair of hands to get it done.

Some painting, returning the cabinet doors, cleanup and sanding. Most of it is time-consuming, tedious work that she isn't a fan of doing herself. She also wants them familiar with the space for when the countertops arrive next week.

Once she gets them set up, she leaves them to it, peeking in at Max, who is playing with a stuffed elephant in the pillow fort she built for him, and then going upstairs to make sure Hugo and Lex haven't killed each other with excitement. Their voices carry, loud and happy, and her heart aches with how much she wants this.

She stops in the doorway of Lex's room to find both boys spread out on the carpet, comic books and action figures laid out between them. She watches them for a moment, waiting for them to notice her.

Hugo looks up first, and he grins widely. "Hi, Quinn," he says.

Lex startles, and then beams at her, too, and she's lucky she has the doorframe to lean against, because her heart can barely take it. "Mom, look, I'm telling Hugo all about _Wolverine_. He didn't even know half the stuff."

"That's because half the stuff probably isn't age appropriate," she mutters to herself, but won't stop them. She's gone through the comics herself - telling Lex she just wanted to be able to understand what he was so excited about - and she had to censor quite a few issues. At least Lex has something to look forward to when he gets older.

Though, what she has learned is that _Cyclops_ is her favourite, and Louisa calls her a fake lesbian because of it. Asshole.

"I'm thinking we'll just have sandwiches for lunch," she says. "Any requests?"

"Tuna mayo," Lex says immediately, which Quinn could have predicted.

Hugo wrinkles his nose in mild disgust. "Are there options?" he asks, shifting until he's sitting cross-legged.

Quinn takes a moment to recall the items in her fridge. "Well, I'm probably going to have a grilled cheese," she says. "Does that interest you?"

Hugo nods eagerly.

"Cool," Quinn says. "Other than that, you two okay? Need anything?"

Hugo shakes his head, and Lex says, "We're good, Mom."

Quinn blows them each a kiss, enjoys the sight of Hugo's blush, and then heads downstairs again. Max is now sticking plastic keys in his mouth, and she can't resist scooping him up and carrying him into the makeshift kitchen with her, delighting in the excited shriek she gets in response.

Max can crawl, but he doesn't seem to want to. She also knows he can just barely lift himself to his feet, but he rarely does. She's very curious as to why, so she sets him on the dining room floor and quietly observes him while she works.

Bread and butter and cheese and a hot pan. Can of tuna and mayonnaise and slices of cucumber.

She doesn't even realise she's singing until Max is gurgling along with her, tugging at the legs of her cotton pants. She keeps her feet planted, even as she shimmies in place, watching as his little fists close around the fabric. She worries a little that he'll actually pull down her pants with his grip, and she feels them slide a little down her hips as he lifts himself to his feet.

And then promptly drops to his bottom.

Quinn shouldn't laugh, but his face is priceless: a mixture of surprise and petulance. It's honestly the cutest thing, and she feels herself falling very dangerously in love.

"Try again," she tells him, and then refocuses on the sandwiches she's making. She's making a handful for the crew, even though she's not required to, and she sets out a tray with some glasses of iced tea that she'll take across once she has the boys fed.

Max tries two more times before Quinn has to move, clearing off one end of the dining room table and setting out the plates and sandwiches for herself, Hugo and Lex.

Quinn looks down at Max. "What about you, huh?"

Max just blinks at her.

"You're in luck," she says. "I went to the store yesterday in preparation for your imminent arrival, so somebody here is going to be treated to some pretty epic, fresh baby food."

Max smiles.

"You're welcome."

At least baby food doesn't require much work, she thinks, as she prepares a chicken, butternut and turmeric mixture that actually smells decent.

"I hope it tastes nice," she comments as she sets a small bowl on the table. "Think you can go call the boys for me, huh?"

With a laugh, she scoops him up and does just that, sending them to wash their hands before the four of them sit together at the dining room table.

"Why is all your kitchen stuff in here?" Hugo asks, looking a little confused.

"Mommy's building a new kitchen," Lex answers around a bite of sandwich.

"Manners," Quinn says lightly, carefully holding Max in her lap and slowly feeding him. "And, yes, we're redoing our kitchen."

"Why?"

"It was so old," Quinn complains. "It looked like an old lady lives here."

"But an old lady _does_ live here," Lex says cheekily, and Quinn flicks his ear with her finger.

Hugo laughs.

Quinn looks at him, scandalised. "You too?"

"You _are_ old," Hugo says. "At least two times my age."

Quinn laughs, because wow, she wishes. "Barely," she says anyway. "And, I don't appreciate you two ganging up on me, when I so nicely made you sandwiches."

"Thank you, Mommy," Lex says, giving her a toothy grin.

Hugo looks more thoughtful, serious, when he says, "Thank you, Quinn," and Quinn gets the feeling he's thanking her for more than just lunch.

"Anytime, you little monsters," she says, and then focuses on Max for a while, trying her level hardest to make sure all the food ends up inside Max's mouth. Which is more of a feat than she realised.

"Done," Lex says a few minutes later. "May I have some juice please?"

Quinn nods. "I set out some glasses for you and H-Man there," she says. "Make sure you dilute it."

Lex gets to his feet, carrying his plate to the other end of the table.

Quinn looks at Hugo, who's quietly nibbling on his sandwich, looking contemplative. "You okay there, Kiddo?"

Hugo nods, shifting slightly. "I'm just trying to figure out what you put in the sandwich."

"Uh, cheese?"

"No," he says. "There's another flavour in here."

Quinn's eyebrows rise, caught off guard. "Oh, I, um, spread a thin layer of Dijon Mustard on the bread," she tells him.

"Ah, that's what it is," he says, looking irritated, as if he should have known. "And these are green onions, right?"

Quinn isn't sure what's happening right now, but she still nods. "I kind of just made yours the way I make mine," she says. "Do you not like it?"

Hugo's eyes widen. "What? No, I love it."

Quinn leans forward. "Humbug, are you interested in food?" she asks. "Like, preparing food?"

Hugo ducks his head a little, blushing. "Yes."

Quinn gives that a bit of thought. "Tell you what, okay, tonight, you and I are going to cook dinner for all of us, okay?"

"Are we staying for dinner?"

Quinn hesitates. "Uh, I think so," she says. "If your mom gets here before then; she'll just join us."

And, really, Quinn has never ever seen Hugo smile that wide before - she is not prepared for it. He looks positively elated at the very idea, and Quinn really hopes she hasn't said something wrong.

Still, to see that look on his face, she would say just about anything.

* * *

With Lex and Hugo back upstairs with a plate of cookies and Max down for an afternoon nap after a small bottle of milk from Rachel in the front room, Quinn finally makes her way into the work site, ducking under the tarp with her tray.

Now, Quinn has a certain expectation in mind, and what she finds is definitely nowhere near that. Bruno and T are actually fiddling with their phones, and Jake is standing with a paintbrush, smiling at Quinn in a way that isn't any way good.

Sigh.

Quinn takes a careful look around, tallying what they have and haven't done. She makes casual mention of how much they still have to do, but Jake assures her they'll get it done in time. She doesn't think they will, but she's choosing to give them the benefit of the doubt, given she doesn't know them, but she knows she's going to be placing a call to Noah Puckerman about it, regardless.

She's not paying them to sit around and do nothing, and it sure as hell isn't her responsibility to supervise grown men who are supposed to be doing a job.

"Well, let me leave you to get back to work," she says, a little tense, and then exits the way she came, pausing just outside when she hears them burst into laughter.

"Dude," Bruno says; "this is the best gig, ever."

T lets out a whoop. "We haven't done shit, and the sexy lady brings us fucking food. We keep this up, she'll totally have to call us back, _and_ we get paid for every hour, no matter what. Why didn't we take Puck up on this ages ago?"

"It's not like she'll ever know," Bruno says. "These dumb bitches never do."

Quinn shifts her stance, already preparing for the inevitable. It was good while it lasted, but there's only so much she's willing to endure.

The preparations are simple. Quinn creates a direct line out of the house, shifting anything discernible out of sight. She's tense, but she's trying not to let it show. She texts Louisa about it, which eases her mind a little, but she's still on edge. Confrontation isn't something she normally looks forward to.

At three-thirty, Quinn carries Max upstairs, still sleeping, and sets him up in Lex's room, telling the boys, "I'm doing some drilling downstairs, so I'm going to close you guys in here, okay?" She's as casual as can be, ruffling Hugo's hair. "I'll come get you when I'm done, okay? Just stay in here until I do."

Lex gives her a curious look, but she just maintains her smile.

"See you in a little bit," she says, and then leaves the room, making sure to close the door behind her. She spends a moment just standing there, gathering herself, and then she goes back downstairs, gently saying Sasha's name and stepping under the tarp with her trusty German Shepard in tow.

Benefit of the doubt, out the window.

They've done nothing, and she's unsurprised to find Bruno and T laughing over some video in the corner and Jake using a balled up plastic as a makeshift soccer ball. Quinn takes a quick look around, seeing that her cabinet doors are at least inside the room, though none of them is installed. The painting isn't finished, and the sander is still in the corner, not even plugged in.

Well.

Quinn clears her throat. "Done already?" she asks.

"Not quite," Jake says, smiling innocently. "We're probably going to need to come back tomorrow."

Quinn walks into the kitchen area, taking a look around. "That won't be necessary," she says, not looking at any of them.

Jake sputters, clearly not expecting that. "But we haven't finished the job."

"I can see that," she comments, shifting a can of paint along the floor. "Believe me, if I'd known you were going to get so little work done, I wouldn't have bothered hiring you in the first place."

"Hey now."

"But, what would I know, right?" she says, almost conversationally. "I'm just a dumb bitch who knows nothing, right? Was that it?" Her gaze lands on Bruno. "Did I get it right?"

Bruno says nothing, just holding her gaze.

Quinn clears her throat. "Well, now that you've wasted my time, I think it's best we just call it. I'm sure you remember the way out."

None of them moves. "But we're not done yet," Jake protests.

"Again, I'm very aware," Quinn says. "If I know anything, and I can assure you I do, I'd wager you've done nothing at all today, so I'd thank you to get out of my house before I have words with your boss."

"You wouldn't."

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "And, why wouldn't I do that?"

"It's not like you can prove anything."

Quinn almost laughs. "Sure," she says. "Let's gamble on that, okay. Regardless, I'd like you to take your things and leave now. I seem to have a lot of work to do to make up for this wasted day of renovation."

They stare her down, but she's unaffected. She has Sasha and a substantial amount of training in her arsenal, so she would almost dare them to do something.

"You're supposed to pay us," Jake suddenly says, obviously the mouthpiece for this trio.

"Am I?" she asks, arching an eyebrow.

He nods, smirking a little.

"I'd be very careful," she says. "I might be a woman, but I can assure you I know all the Labour Laws inside and out, so I'm going to ask you again whether you want to pursue trying to trick me out of money we both know is supposed to come through your boss, based on the contract we both signed."

Jake looks stumped, as if he hasn't understood a word she's said. Which might be true, for all she knows.

"You ain't paying us?" Bruno asks, standing a little taller.

"For what exactly would I be paying you?" she asks. "I already have three children to look after, without tacking on the three of you."

"Fuck, you're a MILF?" T asks, his voice dipping slyly.

Quinn turns her eyes towards him, critical. "Is that any way to talk to your employer?" she asks, her voice icy.

It escalates quite quickly from there, though Quinn tries to keep a handle on it. It's almost as if they _want_ to exert some kind of dominance. They want her to cower and be apologetic, which is something she'll never do. She faced her father; these boys don't scare her.

Only women have really had the power to hurt her, anyway.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Quinn says when Bruno starts to advance on her.

Bruno pauses, which is the smartest thing he's done all day. "And why should I listen to you?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure what you expect to happen," she says, and she's genuinely confused. "Is it your intention to 'rough' me up to get your money; send some kind of message? I'm confused."

"You would be," T snarls.

Quinn glances at him. "Oh, is that some kind of blonde joke?" She shakes her head. "I'm going to tell you one more time to get out of my home before this gets out of hand, because I can assure you I will make life very, very difficult for you."

"Oh yeah, you and what army?" Jake asks, scoffing.

"Well, for starters, you should know my best friend is a homicide detective and she's been listening on this entire altercation while I've been recording it."

Jake seems to falter, but Bruno looks unaffected. "That's a fucking lie."

"Are you willing to take that chance?" she asks, patting her pant leg where her phone comfortably sits.

"You're bluffing," T accuses.

"I'm not," Quinn says, entirely too calmly. "But, I figured you wouldn't believe me, so the second thing you should know is that dog standing right there - yip, that one baring her teeth at you - is a trained police dog, and she definitely doesn't like the way you're talking to me. Right, Sash?"

Sasha barks menacingly, and all three men shift uncomfortably.

"She's just waiting for my signal, really, so I wouldn't tempt me," Quinn says. "One last time. You ready? Get the hell out of my house. Now."

Sasha barks once more for good measure, and all three of them spring into action, stumbling over themselves to get out of the house with their practically unused tools. The door slams in their rush, and Quinn bends to pat the top of Sasha's head.

"Good girl, Sash," she murmurs. "You did good."

Sasha licks her hand, which, okay.

"Is that your way of saying 'You're welcome,' huh?"

Sasha just stares blankly at her. "We're not telling Lou about this," she murmurs, and then straightens to her full height, retrieving her phone and ending the recording she's just made.

Well, maybe she was half bluffing, but they don't need to know that.

Quinn lets out a soft breath once she hears the truck pulling out of the driveway. She peeks out the window to make sure they're really gone, and then forces her heart rate to slow to a steady rhythm.

She texts Louisa an update, and then drafts and sends a strongly-worded email to Noah Puckerman, explaining the situation as it is. Her stance is firm, and she would rather they not involve any external parties.

Once she's got that all sorted, she goes upstairs to check on the boys, unsurprised to find Max awake and moving around. "Hey, Bambinos," she says. "You guys keen to get some fresh air, maybe kick a ball around in the backyard?"

Lex rolls onto his back and stretches his limbs, yawning in the process. He looks at Hugo. "You game?"

Hugo nods once, and then looks at Quinn. "I'm not very good at sports," he confesses.

Quinn shrugs. "As long as you're having fun, nobody cares," she tells him. "And, plus, you're young, so you're only going to get better."

Lex jumps to his feet, wriggling out his appendages and actually clicking a few times. "Mom played soccer in college," he tells Hugo. "Well, until she had me, I guess, but she was really good."

Hugo's eyes go wide. "Really?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "He's just exaggerating," she says, deflecting. "Get your shoes on. You boys have been cooped up long enough and the weather is lovely."

Lex starts moving immediately, and Quinn bends a little to urge Max to move towards her.

He doesn't.

Instead, he just sits there and stares at her as if she's the most ridiculous person in the world. Which, she really might be.

"Come on, Maxi-Pants," she says seriously. "You can crawl if that'll be easier."

Nothing.

"Ooh, burn, Mom," Lex teases.

Quinn shoots him a playful glare, and then gives up; just lifting Max off the ground and into her arms. "Do the balls need air?" she asks Lex.

"They should be good."

"Awesome," she says; "meet you at the back door."

* * *

When Hugo admitted to being 'not very good' at sports, she really didn't expect him to be underselling it. 'Sports' is probably a blanket term, surely, but the boy struggles with _running_.

It's his coordination, Quinn realises; just his limbs not working the way he needs them to, and she wonders if it's just something he's going to grow into. Still, she's patient and supportive as the three of them kick a ball around on the grass, Max happily occupied with Sasha in the cooling sun.

The afternoon sun is lowering slowly, and Quinn wants to capture this moment for what it is. As a result, she snaps a few pictures of the boys running around, of Max lying across Sasha, of all of them just being silly. She's going to struggle to pick one for her wallpaper.

She sends a few pictures to Louisa and Jane, just wanting to share this moment with them. She thinks over it for a few moments before sending a few to Rachel as well, realising that she would want pictures if it were the other way around.

She's standing on the back deck watching the boys fall over each other when she hears the doorbell ring. She checks to make sure they'll be fine for a few minutes, and then makes her way through the house to the front door, pausing to check who it is through the side window.

Well.

With a heavy sigh, she pulls open the door to find Noah Puckerman standing in her doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Ms Fabray," he says, voice a little strained.

"Mr Puckerman," she returns. "To what do I owe this visit?"

He clears his throat. "Well, I have some conflicting statements I need to clear up," he says. "I was hoping we could talk about this face-to-face."

"That really won't be necessary," she says. "If you have some kind of conflict you'd like to address, I'll happily receive it in writing."

Noah sighs. "Look, okay, this crew is young, I get that, but I've never had trouble with them before."

"That's probably because dumb bitches like me don't realise they're extending the job by doing minimal work per hour," she says tensely.

Noah falters.

"I don't even know what you're doing here."

"Your email said you weren't going to pay me, which means I won't be able to pay them."

"That is true, yes," she says. "The deposit I paid to you should cover the time it took to drive out here, but it isn't in my interest to award lack of work and lack of manners. I could have done the work and then some, and I suppose it's my own fault for working with an untrusted contractor."

Noah bristles, and steps forward. "Listen, lady, you're the one who came to me looking for labour, which you're going to pay for. I don't know what you think you know about being a contractor, but, if you don't like the work, there's no need to - "

"Uncle Noah?"

Noah stops speaking quite suddenly at the sound of Hugo's voice, and Quinn freezes, caught off guard by the recognition.

"What are you doing here?" Hugo asks.

Noah blinks, surprised to see him as he approaches behind Quinn. "What are _you_ doing here?" Noah asks. "Did she kidnap you again?"

Hugo frowns. "No," he says, moving to Quinn's side and gripping her pants in his left fist. "Mom dropped us off. What are you doing here?" He glances at Quinn's stony expression for a moment, before looking at Noah again. "Why were you being mean to Quinn?"

Noah looks stumped. "We were, uh, just talking, Hugo," he explains.

"You were being mean," Hugo argues. "That was your 'bully' voice. The one you use at work."

Noah has no idea what to say in response to that.

"What are you doing here?" Hugo asks for the third time, his gaze hard in a way that Noah's never seen. It's as if he's charged himself as Quinn's protector, even against a man who's known him most of his life.

Noah looks between them, trying to figure out just what's happening. Hugo is here, with this woman, and it looks as if it's willingly. But that can't be possible.

It's not.

There's no way.

"I'm taking you home," Noah suddenly says, the next course of action obvious to only him.

"No," Hugo says, at the same time Quinn says, "Not going to happen."

"This doesn't concern you," Noah snaps at Quinn, who is stoic, even when Hugo flinches at the raised voice.

Quinn settles a hand on Hugo's back, silently letting him know it's all going to be okay. "Actually, it does," she says, very purposeful. "I don't know who you think you are, but I can assure you nobody is leaving this house today."

"Who _I_ am," Noah scoffs. "Who are _you_?"

"I'm Quinn."

Noah glares at her. "And I'm Puck, Hugo's uncle."

Hugo leans into her. "He's the one you punched," he informs her, which is information Quinn can work with. "That night, at the diner."

Quinn's left eyebrow rises. "That's good to know," she says. "Now that we've all been introduced, I'd like you to leave."

"With pleasure," Noah says, shifting forward. "Hugo, let's go," he forces out, reaching for Hugo's arm, who springs back, looking frightened. "Hugo," he says in disbelief. "What are - "

Quinn steps in front of Hugo, looking Noah square in the eye. "Mr Puckerman, if you wish to take this labour issue further, go for it, really. Just, bear in mind that I have photographic evidence of the work that wasn't done, all time-stamped, and a wonderfully clear recording of your crew threatening me in my home." Her eyes are hard. "So, I would really like you to leave now. I'll deal with this in writing, or you really will be hearing from my lawyer."

She attempts to close the door in his face, but Noah sticks a hand out to stop her, his brain not quite catching up and his body reacting.

"Hugo, let's go," he says again.

Hugo crosses his arms over his chest. "No," he says as sternly as he can manage. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Hugo."

"I'm staying with Quinn," he declares stubbornly. "Especially since you're using your 'bully' voice."

Noah falters again, his arm growing slack.

Quinn uses the opportunity to close the door, slamming it a little unnecessarily, and then letting out a long breath as she turns the lock, the sound almost echoing.

For a moment, neither Quinn nor Hugo says anything, but then Hugo is hugging her hips tightly, visibly trembling. She rubs his back soothingly, wondering what she did in her life to be this person who apparently protects him from the men in his life.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks softly.

Hugo nods against her. "Are you?"

"I'm just peachy," she says lightly.

Hugo holds on for a few more moments, and then releases her, saying, "I really, really suck at soccer."

Quinn chuckles, using the hand on his back to lead him back through the house to the yard. "Don't worry," she says; "we'll find whatever you're good at."

Lex perks up at the sight of them. "Mom," he shouts from where he's holding onto Max's arms and helping him take unsteady steps. "Look at Maxi go."

Quinn laughs, loud and happy, as she takes out her phone to take a quick video. "Go, SuperMax, go."

Max giggles, concentrating really hard.

Quinn nudges Hugo forward. "Go on," she says. "At least show your brother you know how to walk."

Hugo looks at her, scandalised. "I can walk."

Quinn winks at him. "Prove it."

* * *

Once they've exhausted themselves in the backyard, Quinn ushers them back into the house, declaring it, "Bath time."

Lex rushes to the bathroom to get the water running, but Hugo lingers, looking a little lost.

"Hey, Kid," Quinn says, standing at his side. "What's up?"

"Bath time," he repeats.

Quinn nods. "Lucas over there takes an eternity, so I think you should call dibs," she says, all casual.

"I don't have any clothes," he finally blurts out.

Quinn frowns. "You sure about that? Cause I'm pretty sure there's a second set in the bag your mom packed."

Hugo looks at her, eyes a little wide.

Quinn gently urges him forward. "Why don't you ask the rat to borrow some pyjamas?" she suggests. "I think you'll be more comfortable."

She has to do little more convincing after that, and the next half hour is spent supervising Lex and Hugo's bath time while letting Max splash about in the bathroom sink.

It's a bit of a whirlwind, really, and she's relieved Hugo and Lex are old enough not to go running around wet and naked, and that Max can't quite walk yet.

"I'm digging these pyjamas," she tells them both once they're all ready, leaving a freshly-dressed Max on Lex's carpet. "I'm going to get ready, and I'll meet you in the front room in a few minutes, okay? See if you can find a movie for us to watch later."

Quinn doesn't really realise she's exhausted until she's alone. Her brain has been functioning full-tilt for hours now, and she really doesn't know how other single parents handle more than one child. She takes her hat off to them, especially if they have actual jobs they have to go to.

Quinn rushes through a shower, all while brainstorming what she's making for dinner. It has to be something relatively simple, if Hugo is going to help her. The fact he's showing an interest at all is lovely, and she's all for cultivating his desire to learn more.

Choosing what to wear is a little tricky. Pyjamas seem like the best route, but she really doesn't want to be in her ratty old sleepwear for when Rachel arrives. It's a vain thought, she knows, but she's trying not to think too hard about it.

Whatever feelings she may or not have for this woman are moot, anyway. Especially after the events involving Noah Puckerman today, surely, and that's not even taking to account she might not even be interested in women.

Quinn eventually decides on a black pair of joggers and a white New Haven Police Department t-shirt that fits a little loose on her frame. It's one of Louisa's old ones, stolen back when the redhead was still just an officer.

Quinn got rid of all of Blair's things a long time ago.

There's a lot of giggling going on when she finally descends the stairs, her bare feet soundless on the wood. She steps into the front room to find Hugo and Lex tripping over themselves trying to lug in numerous blankets and sheets she knows they've stolen from the linen closet.

"What's going on here?" she asks, her voice a little stern.

They both freeze.

Lex drops the blanket in his arms. "We're, uh, making a fort?"

"Is that a question?"

"You always said it's easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission."

Quinn rues the day she painstakingly explained what that phrase means. "How are you planning on building it?" she asks. "Do you have drawn plans?"

Lex's eyes light up, and then he sprints from the room without a word. Quinn looks at Hugo. "Ready to cook?"

Hugo nods eagerly, setting his armful of fabric on the couch. He bends to lift Max off the floor, and follows Quinn into the makeshift kitchen.

"Now," she says. "I'm afraid our options are a little limited, because this isn't exactly the kitchen, so we're going to have to be creative. We'll do something extravagant next time."

Hugo looks at her with wide eyes. "There's going to be a next time?"

Quinn hesitates. "If your mom allows it, of course," she answers diplomatically.

Hugo sets Max on the floor, watches him for a moment, and then asks, "What does extr - extrava - "

"Extravagant?"

Hugo nods, repeating, "Extravagant. What does it mean?"

Quinn gives it a bit of thought. "Over the top," she explains. "Almost fancy," she tries.

Hugo nods in understanding. "So, what are we making?"

"Well, we have options," she says, moving towards the fridge and opening its door. "Obviously, there's everyone's favourite, mac and cheese. There's spaghetti and meatballs, cottage pie, maybe we can make this chicken and broccoli pasta dish I've been meaning to try. Any of those interest you?"

Hugo seems to give it some serious consideration before he says, "I like broccoli."

"You're a man after my own heart, Young Chef."

* * *

Quinn is browning the diced chicken in a saucepan, Hugo breaking apart the florets of broccoli and Max hitting a plastic spatula against the floor when Lex returns, a wad of papers and some pencils in his hands.

Lex throws himself into his seat, sounding a little breathless. "So, I drew the room out how it looks now," he says, showing Quinn one of his pages. "It won't work well for our fort."

Quinn peeks at the paper, one eye staying on her chicken. "You'll have to change the layout of the furniture," she says.

Lex finds a blank piece and starts drawing the room out again, turning the page this way and that. Quinn smiles to herself, loving the ability to witness his brain at work. She turns her focus to their dinner, checking if her pasta water has reached boil yet. Almost.

"Chef Hugo," she calls out. "Those baby trees ready yet?"

"Yes, Chef," Hugo declares, carrying the bowl over to her. "Are these okay?"

"Perfect," she tells him. "Come stand closer. We're going to add some seasoning to the chicken, and then we're going to salt our pasta water. It's really important you do that, or your pasta will taste like nothing, regardless of what you eat with it."

Quinn doesn't realise it, but splitting her attention among the three boys is a little more difficult than she initially thought. It helps she's good at multi-tasking, but she can only wonder how much harder it would be if Max actually could walk around unsupervised. Wow.

Hugo and Quinn are done with dinner just as Lex declares his plan complete, and it's perfect timing.

"Set the table," Quinn tells Lex. "We'll eat dinner, and then you can put us to work, Architect Extraordinaire."

Lex blushes, but does as he's told, she and Hugo carefully plating up. She even lets him add diced chives and grated Parmesan as a garnish before she gets them started eating.

"This is really good, Hugo," Lex says between mouthfuls.

Quinn immediately agrees, popping a piece of broccoli into her mouth while Max swallows his latest mouthful of his own special blend of their dinner. She made sure to take out chicken and broccoli and pasta, pre-spice, and blended it enough to be easy enough for him to eat, and he seems to be loving it.

"Even ReMax thinks so," Quinn points out, and Hugo blushes a dark, dark red.

Lex softly discusses his plans for his fort, Hugo chipping in where he can and Quinn adding some structural insight. Lex wants it to be huge, and she tries to make sure he remembers that the blankets should be on the floor and the sheets up top, for mass purposes.

Once they're finished eating, Quinn sends the boys to the front room with Max while she cleans up as best she can, setting the dishes in the dishwasher and packing the food into containers. She can hear giggling and several thuds every few moments. She can't even imagine what she's going to walk into when she's done.

Well.

It isn't a complete disaster when she peeks into the room, which is always a relief. They're scrambling around to keep it all in place, which is doubly amusing to Quinn. And Max, who is giggling happily as he watches them act like maniacs.

It's okay.

They're cute maniacs.

Quinn stays in the dining room and out of the way while she checks her phone, reading the replies she's received from Jane and Louisa, who both gush in their respective ways. Jane's _OMG, they're so cute I'm going to die_, to Louisa's _Don't take this the wrong way, but I could eat them - why are they so stupidly adorable?_

It's totally on brand.

Quinn also has a text from Rachel that was sent more than an hour ago. She's checked in a handful of times throughout the day - which always gets a soft smile out of Hugo - and Quinn switches to that thread to read her latest text.

_Oh my god, Quinn, I'm so sorry! We're supposed to be back in Lima already, but SOMEONE has misplaced the car keys and we've been searching the whole damn facility for them. (Kurt thinks they might even be in the mud bath, which is honestly the worst case scenario). Let me know if I should get my parents to pick the boys up, because this definitely isn't what you signed up for_.

Quinn chuckles to herself, because of course there was bound to be some kind of disaster. With a soft smile, she types out her reply.

_It's not a problem at all, don't worry. We're just about to watch a movie, so there's no rush. I hope you've found the keys - can't imagine that's been a nice way to end what was supposed to be a relaxing day_.

_Gosh, you have no idea. Thank you so much. You are actually the best_!

And, to her immense horror, Quinn actually blushes. Like a fucking schoolgirl. What the hell? This is ridiculous.

Quinn pockets her phone, and then moves into the front room, taking in the fort's progress. It looks quite stable, given what they have to work with, and Quinn is extremely proud of her little Engineer.

When Lex deems his creation complete, Quinn goes over it to make sure it'll stay up once they're all inside, and then she declares it safe for occupation.

"What movie are we watching?" Quinn asks, watching as Lex crawls through the dedicated door.

"It's a surprise," he calls back.

Quinn contemplates the idea of making them some hot chocolate or even popcorn, but she caught several yawns from all three boys, so she doesn't anticipate them staying up much longer.

Well.

Quinn is right.

They make it only half an hour into _Mulan_ before Max falls into slumber against her chest. Lex goes next, nodding off with his head pillowed by her legs, drooling a little on her joggers.

Hugo takes a little longer, his head resting on her shoulder. "Quinn," he whispers.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like me?"

For a moment, Quinn wonders where the question's come from, but she realises quite quickly that this must be Finn's doing, convincing him he's not really wanted around, some kind of nuisance. Perhaps it's also something to do with his father, Quinn doesn't know.

What she does know is this, though: "I do, Hugo."

He lifts his head to look at her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "You called me Hugo," he accuses, surprised. "You never do that."

She smiles sadly. "Well, now you know how serious I'm being," she says, which is a truth universal to all the people in her life. Lex knows she's being serious when she uses his name, and Jane and Louisa are fully aware what it means when their given names leave her lips.

_Jane, I was so careful. I don't know how this happened._

_Louisa, it - it's over. He wants nothing to do with us._

_Jane, I'm gay. I'm very, very gay._

_Louisa, just know that I will make your life a living nightmare if you ever, ever hurt Jane._

_Jane, I think she's the one._

_Louisa, she's gone. She's just gone._

_Jane, I think we're going to make that change I was talking about._

_Louisa, do you remember when I thought Blair was the one? I was wrong. She doesn't even compare_.

"You like me?" Hugo asks again.

"A whole lot," she assures him.

"You don't find me annoying?"

Quinn makes a mental note to punch Finn again the next time she sees him. "Not even a little bit."

Hugo studies her face critically, as if he's looking for an untruth. If he finds what he's looking for, she doesn't know, but he does resettle against her, snuggling into her side, and he's asleep within minutes.

Quinn Fabray, the human pillow. What has become of her life?

She lies perfectly still while they sleep, making various sounds and shifting around. Eventually, she lifts her phone and just about manages to send a text to Rachel with one hand.

_Hey, the boys are asleep, so please don't ring the doorbell when you get here. Just text. Drive safe_.

She doesn't get a reply, and that's okay.

* * *

Quinn thinks she falls asleep, because the next thing she knows the movie is back to the menu selection and her phone is buzzing in her hand. She blinks at her phone's screen, adjusting to the light to see she has a text.

_This is the text, as requested. I'm at your door. Sorry I'm so late._

_Be right there._

It takes a lot of manoeuvring and held breath for Quinn to untangle herself successfully. She makes sure the boys are all settled, and then crawls out of the fort, feeling her joints click when she's finally upright. She has enough vanity to run a hand through her hair a few times before she moves to the front door, peeking out automatically, to see Rachel standing there and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Quinn is smitten, and she doesn't think she keeps it off her face when she finally opens the door. She thinks she saves herself the embarrassment by immediately yawning, in lieu of a greeting.

Rachel lets out a laugh. "I didn't think it was _that_ late."

Quinn waves a hand, waiting for the yawn to pass. "I too fell asleep," she confesses, stepping back to let the other woman inside. "They just left me alone. What else was I supposed to do?"

Rachel steps into the house, marvelling at the smell of _home_ that wafts over her. She watches as Quinn closes and locks the door.

"They're all in the front room," she says, leading the way. "We kind of built a fort and crawled under there to watch _Mulan_."

"Oh, I love that movie."

"The soundtrack is amazing," Quinn agrees quietly, dropping the volume of her voice. "They're under there if you want to take a peek. I promise they're both still whole."

Rachel smiles crookedly. "I believe you," she says; "though, I have missed them." She starts to bend, but Quinn catches her arm to stop her. It's the first time they've ever touched, skin-to-skin, and Quinn gulps before taking her hand back.

"Uh," she starts. "I don't know if you've eaten, but there's some dinner leftover I can heat up for you. Hubert did all the cooking."

Rachel just stares at her for a long moment, blinking several times. Eventually, smiles. "Well, how could I say no to that?"


	6. VI

**VI**

Rachel thinks she might actually melt into a puddle at the cuteness overload she experiences once she's in the fort. She's on her hands and knees, her heart swelling to quadruple its size at the sight of Lex, Hugo and Max - and Sasha - all spread out on blankets and pillows, all of them looking so peaceful.

She stays a while, just taking it all in. Her own day was eventful, but she suddenly wants to know everything her boys did today. She wants to hear Hugo's excited chatter and Max's nonsensical gurgles. She even wants to hear Lex wax poetic about whatever his little heart desires.

Rachel _wants_.

She wants Quinn, too.

It's a truth that seems to have solidified itself somewhere between her own useless rambling and her confusing feelings that aren't so confusing anymore. If they were ever. It's what she's spent the day coming to accept, and now here she is.

Rachel finds Quinn in what is her makeshift kitchen, and she stands in the large archway, just watching as Quinn floats around the room, softly humming to herself. She's dressed so casually, barefoot and relaxed, and Rachel thinks she looks stunning.

Rachel has the desire to get closer to her, but she can't say she's ready for _that_. Accepting and actually acting on what she may or may want are two entirely separate things.

Quinn barely touched her tonight, and she swears she can still feel it in her toes. She's never experienced anything like that, in any capacity, and she's sure it'll take a while for her to recover.

Quinn eventually notices her, turning fully and smiling so gently, that Rachel still thinks she might melt into nothing.

"I don't know if I should be offering you wine," Quinn says, setting a plate on the dining room table and waving her forward.

Rachel shakes her head. "I drank so much champagne today," she admits. "Some water would be perfect, though."

Quinn busies herself with Rachel's glass of water while she takes a seat, humming at the delicious smell reaching her nose.

"You said Hugo cooked this?"

Quinn grins at her. "Every single bit," she says. "Picked the recipe, did all the prep, and then put it all together."

Rachel picks up her fork. "It smells divine," she comments.

"Taste it," Quinn instructs, setting her glass of water on the table. She steps back to switch on the kettle, and searches for a clean cup to make some tea for herself.

Rachel watches the play of muscles in her shoulders for a moment, before she finally takes a bite of food... and proceeds to moan.

Quinn spins around quite suddenly, her eyes a little wide, and Rachel flushes almost immediately.

"It's really, really good," Rachel says, covering her mouth.

Quinn looks wonderfully amused. "I think I figured that out, from the sound you just made."

"Shut up."

Quinn just chuckles as she finds the teabag she wants and pops it into her fresh cup. Rachel watches her movements carefully, just using the opportunity to look at her. She's never really allowed herself to do that before, and it's never been something she's really ever wanted to do. Not with Finn, and not with Brody.

Of course it would be different with Quinn.

She's already halfway through her dinner by the time Quinn actually joins her, gracefully sliding into a chair and curving her fingers around her cup.

"Did Hugo seriously make this?" Rachel asks, sipping at her water.

"He helped," Quinn answers. "Food seemed to interest him, so I got him involved in the preparation."

"I'm not a very good cook," she admits. "My repertoire probably consists of five recipes. Though, my takeout game is stellar. We were really spoiled in New York."

Quinn blinks. "You're from New York?"

Rachel is caught off guard by that, because she just assumed Hugo must have told her. "Huh, I suppose we don't know all that much about each other, do we?"

"No, I don't suppose we do," Quinn agrees. "So, you're from New York?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I don't think a lot of people are actually _from_ New York," she says. "I'm from here, born and raised, but I went to college in New York, and the boys and I moved back last summer." She pauses, and then looks at Quinn's t-shirt. "Are you from New Haven?"

Quinn chuckles. "Touché, I guess," she murmurs. "And, no, I'm actually from Belleville."

"Oh?"

"Went to New Haven for college, and then my boy and I moved here this summer." She smiles a little coyly. "We probably wouldn't have come here at all, but circumstances kind of fell together, and here we are."

Rachel studies her closely, feeling as if she's starting to understand her better. "You were running from something too, weren't you?"

Quinn startles, but just about manages to nod. "Something like that, yeah."

"Someone?" Rachel chances a guess.

Quinn takes a sip of her tea, wincing a little at the temperature. She looks contemplative for a moment, as if she's weighing her options, and then she says, "She broke me."

Rachel realises Quinn says the words for a very specific reason, and the echo of _whenever you're ready_ rings in her mind. "They tend to do that, don't they?"

"Women?"

"People," Rachel clarifies. "Lovers."

Quinn meets her gaze, and Rachel can't bear to look away from the hazel on display. "Lovers implies 'love,'" she says.

"Does it?"

Quinn hums in thought. "I believe she loved me," she says; "so maybe I'm just the only idiot who thinks the implication stands."

This time, when they touch, Rachel is more prepared for it, her fingers tracing over the bones of Quinn's thin wrist. "Maybe you are," she finally says, and Quinn actually laughs.

Rachel looks at Quinn's shirt again, slowly taking her hand back and eating another forkful. "Are you in law enforcement?" she asks.

"Excuse me?"

"Your shirt," Rachel clarifies, and then forces her eyes upwards, because she's just staring at Quinn's chest.

Quinn glances down. "Oh, uh, no," she says, smiling in amusement. "This is my best friend's. The redhead. She's a detective in the department, and I steal her clothes because it annoys her."

"A detective," Rachel echoes, suddenly feeling a lot different about their brief encounter in the bathroom. Well.

"One of the youngest promoted to homicide," Quinn says proudly. "It's dangerous and I hate it half the time, but it's what she was born to do, so I just give her stick about it, because it's basically my job."

"As it should be," Rachel agrees. "So, what do you do?"

"Excuse me?"

"As a job, I guess," she says. "Unless you won the lottery and this is your living the life."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "If I won the lottery, I can assure you this is the last place we'd be," she comments. "And, well, I don't actually have a job, not really."

"Oh?"

Quinn looks thoughtful, before she says, "I'm a writer, actually. I write for a living."

Rachel smiles, a little excited. "I write, too," she says; "though, you probably write actual stories, and I just write music and lyrics."

Quinn looks pleased. "See, we've already got so much in common," she says. "Both have sons, both write for a living, both have a slight obsession with the hardware store, both - "

"Like girls."

Quinn's mouth snaps shut.

Rachel's eyes widen, because she did not just say that.

She didn't.

She did not.

Oh, God.

Did she just say that out loud?

She did.

Oh, fuck, she did.

"Hey," Quinn gently says, her finger tilting Rachel's chin up so she can meet her gaze. "It's okay," she says, her voice so low and understanding that Rachel isn't sure she's real. "I already told you," she murmurs. "Whenever you're ready."

* * *

They end up on the back deck, Rachel with a hot chocolate and Quinn with a tumbler of Scotch. They're each occupying an armchair, neither of them opting for the swing, because it's obvious Rachel really isn't ready and Rachel thinks Quinn is giving her space.

"Do you miss New York?" Quinn asks, her eyes on the stars in the distance.

"Yes." There's no hesitation in her answer, but there's more to it. "Moving back wasn't really a choice I couldn't make," she explains quietly, almost embarrassed by her failure. "There was just no way I could make it work. Not with all of my support system here in Lima, a baby on the way, and my - " she stops, sighs and sips her beverage. "He's been breaking me since we met," she confesses, and she can feel Quinn's eyes on her.

Rachel doesn't talk about Brody with anybody; not really. Santana probably hears the most of it, but Santana acts as if their entire relationship meant nothing; as if Brody really just was a sperm donor and there was no love between them.

Which isn't right. It was toxic, sure, and he never treated her the way she deserved, but she wouldn't have stayed with him and had two children with him if there wasn't something more there.

It's gone now, obviously, but that doesn't mean it didn't exist.

When Rachel tells Quinn that, she's not really sure what to expect, so she's a little surprised when Quinn says, "And then it's almost as if you're expected to sweep it all under the rug, just because you got the best things in the world out of it."

Rachel looks at her; studies her and memorises her. "Lex's father?"

Quinn shudders. "It was a disaster waiting to happen," she explains. "He held a position of power, was about a decade older than me and was totally married." She shakes her head, almost in disgust. "I didn't know the last one, but I don't think anyone believes it. There was no love there, so I could bear the ending. I wasn't going to force him to be part of my son's life, because God knows I know what it feels like to be unwanted by your parents."

Rachel has the desire to touch her again, but she's almost too far away. "Does that mean it's just you?"

Quinn puffs out a breath. "Just me," she confirms. "We're the only Fabrays we need, anyway."

Rachel goes still. "Fabray?"

Quinn looks at her, her brow creased. "Um, yes," she says. "Quinn Fabray, hello, nice to meet you."

"Any relation to Annalise Fabray?"

Quinn nods. "My grandmother," she says a little sadly. "This was actually her house. She's the reason we're even in Lima. Did you know her?"

"Not personally," she says; "but my parents did. It's my understanding my Dad grew up with her children."

"So, he must have met my father, then." She drops her gaze. "I suspect he must have been a little shit if the person he became is anything to go on, so I'm sorry for that."

"Bad experience?"

Quinn barks out a short laugh, and then gives Rachel a heart attack when she lifts the side of her t-shirt to show Rachel a short scar that runs along her side. It'd be more horrific if Rachel weren't staring at the woman's impressive abs.

Quinn seems to notice Rachel's distraction and hastily drops her shirt, both of them blushing.

"Bad experience," Quinn quietly confirms.

Rachel sips her hot chocolate, contemplating her next words. "There are no physical marks on Hugo," she says.

Quinn's eyes snaps towards her.

"I checked thoroughly," Rachel says. "None on Max, too. I - I think I would have killed him. I still think I might."

Quinn nods, as if she understands the feeling.

Rachel is a little hesitant when she says, "You didn't tell me. In the beginning, you didn't tell me."

Quinn steadily meets her gaze. "Would you have believed me?"

And, Rachel can't realistically say she would have. "I would have paid more attention," she whispers, and it hurts. "I - I would have seen. I wouldn't have failed my babies."

All of a sudden, Quinn is kneeling in front of her, her fingers gentle on her cheeks as she catches unexpected tears. "You haven't failed them," Quinn says.

"It's my fault he was even in their lives."

"Hey," Quinn murmurs. "Don't do that. Don't."

Rachel breathes in, trying to get a hold of herself. "It's my job to protect them," she says. "It's my job."

Quinn puffs out a breath, dropping her hands. "And not mine."

Rachel wonders how it's possible for her just to know what she's saying without her having to say the words.

Quinn clears her throat. "Then you should probably have a talk with Noah Puckerman."

Rachel gapes at her, because that was the last thing she was expecting to hear today. "Excuse me?"

Quinn gets to her feet and returns to her seat, Rachel suddenly missing her proximity. "We had a few words today," she says. "I wasn't aware he knew Little H, and, uh, he kind of thought I kidnapped your kids again and used what H called his 'bully' voice. He tried to make Herbert go with him and reached out for him, as if to grab, which made Boy Wonder cower, and I - " she stops, blushing.

Rachel wonders, maybe, if this is what it feels like to fall in love.

"Look," Quinn says, suddenly serious. "I get it, okay? Believe me, I get it. You want to be the one to protect your children and you should be, but I'm not going to stop doing the same, okay? It doesn't matter that they're not mine, and I'll do it every day. Without question, and without hesitation."

Yip.

That's some kind of love.

"Where did you come from?" Rachel asks, sounding a little breathless.

Quinn smiles at her. "I already told you."

"New Haven, huh?"

Quinn rolls her eyes, and Rachel gets the impression all the profound talk is over for the evening. Which is a relief, really, because she doesn't want Quinn to think she's always such a mess.

"So," Rachel muses, regaining some semblance of composure; "You admit to kidnapping my children at least one time, huh?"

The laugh she receives in response is definitely worth it.

* * *

Rachel thinks she should expect the intervention, but it still catches her off guard when she pulls into the driveway of her own home a half hour later to find Santana, Kurt and Noah sitting on her front steps.

Oh, boy.

At least they don't say anything until Hugo and Max are both safely inside and tucked away in their respective rooms. Rachel almost wants to crawl into bed with Hugo, just to soak up his warmth, but she knows she can't avoid this inevitable.

She knew it the second Quinn mentioned Noah. And, frankly, she doesn't know how to feel about what Quinn told her. About Noah, and about herself.

Still, Rachel lingers in Hugo's room, thinking back on the evening she's just had. She knows she shouldn't be thinking it, but there was an impromptu date feel to their time together. Quinn even touched her cheek - gently, so, so gently - at the end of the night, tucking her hair behind her ear, and Rachel's skin is still tingling from the feel of her fingers.

Eventually, Rachel has to leave her son's room and face just whatever it is her friends have come here to say. She knows she's not looking forward to it, but she'll indulge them, for whatever reason. They're all she has. She needs them.

Kurt, Santana and Noah are in her kitchen, each of them sipping some kind of beverage, and Rachel isn't sure how she feels in this moment. She _was_ giddy, earlier. Leaving Quinn's place with her children in tow, both of them fast asleep, happy and healthy, had felt a little nostalgic, in a very weird way. Quinn had carried Hugo, and she held Max and the diaper bag, making Rachel feel as if it was all something she could want and actually have.

And that's the thing. She _does _want, and she thinks it's something she could be ready for. Maybe. Soon.

The idea is just wild.

When Rachel said her day was eventful, she meant it. She got a little drunk, sure, but her inebriated brain allowed her to look at things a little more clearly, merely under the haze of free thinking. There was no anxiety or guilt attached to her thoughts, and that made her mind think _wholly_ about what she wants from life. And what she wants happens to be Quinn Fabray.

A woman.

Rachel thinks she might have done her college 'experimenting' the first few years in New York, but she got caught in a tangled web with Brody and there was just no way to get out without _leaving_. That alone was terrifying, because, even if she never saw herself as a mother so young; she definitely didn't see herself as a _single_ mother, ever.

And yet, here she is.

She knows she wouldn't be able to do any of it without the people sitting in her kitchen right now, which is why she even allows this 'intervention' to happen.

Santana starts, which is unsurprising.

"Why do I have to find out from Puck that you let that bitch watch your children?"

Rachel bristles at the language, because Quinn is lovely. Guarded and mysterious and so damn confusing, but just wonderful. "Santana," she reprimands slowly. "Please don't use that language about her."

"Why the hell not?" Santana presses. "Berry, what the hell is going on? Are there not enough babysitters in the world? The woman _took_ your children, and then you just left them with her. Willingly. Are you insane?"

Rachel lets out a long sigh, moving over to her fridge and ruing her decision to reject Quinn's offer of wine. She's definitely going to need some alcohol to get her through the next chunk of her life.

"Rachel," Kurt says, watching her carefully. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," Rachel says, turning to look at them. "Look, I appreciate your concern and all, but you're really overreacting."

"She held Hugo hostage," Noah says. "I tried to bring him home, you know?"

Rachel glares at him. "Well, yes, Noah, I know _exactly_ what happened today, so I'd be really careful what I say, if I were you."

Noah hesitates, but continues, regardless. "Then you _know_ leaving your children there was a mistake. She's - she's bad news, Rachel. Do you know she's refusing to pay us for the work we did today?"

No, Rachel didn't know that, but there's a part of her that just knows there's more to the story. Quinn doesn't seem like the type of person to skimp out on paying what's owed, and Rachel's finding it difficult to believe anything from Noah right now.

"See," Santana says. "She's just committing felonies left, right and centre."

Rachel rolls her eyes, exasperated. "Come on," she says. "Are you even hearing yourselves? So what if Max and Hugo went over there? They obviously had fun, and they're both still whole and healthy and _back home_, so I don't see what the big deal is."

"The big deal is you didn't tell us," Santana snaps, and Rachel stares at her, dumbfounded.

"And why should I?" she questions, because she's genuinely curious. Why would she even need to do something like that?

"Because," she says, entirely not helpful at all.

"Because what, Santana?" she demands. "I don't understand what this is all about. Have you ever even spoken to Quinn? Do you know her character? Do you have any idea who she is?" She squares her shoulders. "I know you're just trying to look out for me and the boys, but I trust Quinn and I - "

"Well, look how good it turned out with the last person you trusted," Kurt comments, and Rachel feels sucker-punched.

She _knows_ he's referring Brody, but it's Finn's face that flashes through her mind first and she recoils, stepping back and suddenly feeling dizzy.

The last person she trusted with her children _hurt_ them. Quinn wouldn't. She knows that, but there's a tendril of doubt taking seed, and Kurt can see it on her face, grabbing at it with both hands.

"I'm sorry," he says unapologetically; "but we all know it's true. Honey, your track record has been suspect."

"I mean, you're dating Finnept, again," Santana interjects, and Rachel wonders when her dating life became such a laughing stock to her friends. At least they haven't managed to figure out that she's actually interested in Quinn. And that she and Finn are no longer… anything.

"We're just worried," Kurt says. "She's a stranger."

"And fucking psycho," Noah adds. "She set her beast of a dog on my boys while they were over there."

Rachel resists the urge to smile, because Sasha is actually such a sweet puppy. Whatever Noah's boys did, she's convinced they deserved it, and she really doesn't appreciate the thought of Noah spreading rumours about Quinn.

Rachel straightens her spine. They obviously don't understand, and she isn't willing to have this conversation with people who _won't_ even try. She's pretty exhausted already. Today was supposed to be a calm, relaxing day, and all the good her full-body massage did has been washed away. Even the calm being with Quinn managed to bring her has disappeared.

Now, she's just tense and a little angry and a lot annoyed that her friends think it's okay to show up at her house and question her decisions based on the little information they have.

In the end, she probably doesn't channel her emotions well, given the way they're threatening to overwhelm her. It's just that Kurt and Santana are being nosy and unreasonable, and Noah is just being an ass.

It's just that Santana says, "After everything we've done for you…" when Rachel asks why she should even have to discuss her parenting with them, and Rachel loses it.

She raises a hand to stop her, her eyes _hard_ after her altercation with Finn, her resolve solidified after her interaction with Quinn. "I'm going to stop you right there, Santana," she says; "because I obviously wasn't aware the help I've received included whatever this is. You _know_ I appreciate it all, but they are _my_ kids and _I'm_ the parent here, not you or Kurt or, God forbid, _Noah_.

"Do you see _me_ getting involved in your children's lives this way? I _know_ the situation was and is different, and yeah, you both have your own wonderful spouses to help when I never did because you're older and I'm the idiot who managed to get knocked up by a douchebag as a teenager, but, dammit, that doesn't give you the _right_ to my children. That's not how this works, so, no, you don't actually get a say right now. I get to decide whom they spend time with, and I choose Quinn."

Wow, okay, that totally escalated quickly, leaving them all particularly stunned. Taken out of context, it reveals far more than Rachel is ready for them to know.

"Well, don't come running to us when she proves us all right," Kurt says snidely, and they're the words that remain ringing in her head long after they're gone and she's crawled into bed.

She's not sure she'll be able to sleep.

She doesn't even know if she wants to.

It's just that she _knows_ they're wrong about Quinn. It's different than with Jesse, Finn and Brody, because, with them, even Rachel knew they would eventually let her down at some point. Quinn is different. Rachel can feel it.

Which is maybe why she reaches for her phone to send an unexpected text, her heart beating a little too fast at merely the sight of Quinn's name.

_Hey, are you still awake?_

_My left eye is halfway open, so I think that counts. What's up?_

Rachel hesitates, because she really has no idea what she's doing.

Well.

She could just go with that.

_I have no idea what I'm doing._

She waits almost a minute for a reply, and there's a part of her that wonders if Quinn has actually fallen asleep. But, her phone eventually buzzes in her hand, and there's a sudden certainty to whatever she's feeling towards this woman when she reads the words.

_I think it would be more of a shock if you actually did, so I don't think it's something you need to be worrying about. If anything, I'd wager nobody else knows what they're doing, either. We just pretend really well. (I know I do.) Also, nobody says you have to have it all figured out, you know? I reckon you're doing pretty well, no matter that you think, and I'll be happy to remind you of that whenever you need to hear it. Capiche?_

Rachel's heart pounds, because this is all too much and not nearly enough.

_Understood._

_Good. Reckon you can get some sleep now that we've quieted the doubt?_

_I think so. Thank you, Quinn. Goodnight :)_

_Night, Rabbit ;)_

* * *

In the morning, Hugo is all talk, recounting his entire day with Quinn in its entirety. He can barely catch his breath between sentences, and Rachel is so happy. Warm in a way that she can barely handle.

Hugo keeps jumping between stories, talking about Lex's collection of comics and Quinn's soccer skills and, and, and. It's obvious how he feels about them, and Rachel is so pleased he's taken to them.

Taken to Quinn, who Rachel suddenly desperately needs Hugo to like. Because _Rachel_ does, more than she ever thought she would. It would be devastating if Hugo decided he didn't want to spend time with Quinn and Lex anymore.

And Max, well, it's obvious he loves Quinn in his own little baby way.

"We're visiting your grandfathers today," Rachel eventually tells him, just managing to get a word in, and all Hugo does is nod in acceptance, before telling her another story about Quinn and Lex and Sasha.

The stories continue even while they're at Rachel's fathers' house, both of them a little wide-eyed at Hugo's enthusiasm. Hiram even pulls her aside to ask about it, because it's so unlike Hugo.

Rachel forces herself not to smile, even though she desperately wants to. She just sips at her coffee and says, "He seems to like them, yes."

"This is the woman who kidnapped them, right?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Please, not you too?"

"Me too?"

"I already had Noah, Santana and Kurt stage some warped intervention last night," she explains. "It wasn't pretty."

"What happened?"

With a heavy sigh, Rachel explains what was said, and he raises his eyebrows at the vehemence behind the way Rachel defends Quinn. There's something in his daughter's voice he's not sure he's ever heard before.

"They're _my_ kids," Rachel says, still tense. "And, yes, of course, I appreciate everything everyone's done for us, but I'm the parent. I make the decisions and the choices and I have to deal with all the consequences."

"Of course, Sweetheart," Hiram says, momentarily confused by the emotion in her eyes.

Rachel can't stop herself from thinking that the choice she's made now is Quinn and she's willing to shoulder the consequences of it.

* * *

It starts something.

Unlocks it, in a way. Rachel hasn't really done anything like this before. Actually flirted with someone, even over text. It's so different to anything she went through with Jesse, Finn or Brody. Those relationships were all so vastly different to each other, but still the same at the basest truth that Rachel did a lot of the work to keep the relationships ticking along.

Whatever's happening with Quinn is nothing like that.

Quinn is the one who texts first every morning, which could just be because she's an early riser (or Lex is the early riser, who knows?).

Quinn is the one who guides and prolongs conversations, asking questions and quietly letting Rachel know that talking to her isn't annoying or a nuisance.

Quinn is the one who actually _calls_ first, late at night when all the children are asleep, and very casually says, "I had the sudden urge to hear your voice, so I hope this is okay," and Rachel is convinced none of it can be real.

Quinn is the one who jokingly dubs the hardware store as 'their place,' dropping the fact she's planning for a trip in the morning at exactly ten o'clock into their conversation, and Rachel reads it for exactly what it is.

Which is why she finds herself standing in front of Quinn the next morning, feeling like a schoolgirl with a disastrous crush on the uber cool kid in the entire school. Quinn just seems to have that air about her, dressed in those stupid denim shorts and a purple tank top that shows off her arms and -

_Arms_.

Rachel gulps at the sight of her, hair casually loose and sunglasses perched on top of her head.

"Hey," Rachel says, smiling warmly, because she's totally doing this now. Whatever this is. "Fancy seeing you here."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot."

Rachel grins at her, a strange giddy feeling growing in her chest, and then looks around. "Where's Lex?"

"He's in aisle seven, pouting at the various pool supplies," she explains. "We're having a strange non-fight about the fact we don't have a pool and there's really nothing I can do about it."

Rachel feels herself grow warm, her heart pounding in her chest when she oh-so-casually says, "We have a pool."

Quinn steps closer to her quite suddenly, her hand immediately covering Rachel's mouth. "Don't say that too loudly," she rushes out. "He could hear you."

Rachel stops breathing, because Quinn is touching her. Quinn is touching her _mouth_. She blinks once, twice, and Quinn seems to catch herself, retracting her hand as if she's been burned.

"Sorry about that," Quinn says, her eyes a little wide. "It's just, God, if he knew you had a pool, he would basically move in with you in a heartbeat."

Rachel physically has to stop herself from telling Quinn she wouldn't mind, because that's just way out of left field. "It's a risk I'm willing to take," she says instead, which is no better than her initial thought. "But, seriously, you guys are welcome to use it whenever you want. Somebody should."

"You don't?"

Rachel pauses, contemplating her next words. "We didn't do a lot of that in New York," she confesses quietly. "It's not really a thing that interests Hugo, and Max is so young."

Quinn exaggerates a gasp. "You are _never_ too young," she says. "Swimming is…" her voice trails off, and her gaze lowers over Rachel's body for a beat, before she seems to catch herself once more. "It, uh, it's great."

Rachel looks at her face, noticing her blush and not quite understanding it. "Are you okay?"

Quinn clears her throat. "Yip," she says a little too quickly. "Just, you know, you should get them swimming. It's fun."

Rachel audibly swallows, and just about manages to find confidence from somewhere to say, "Or, you know, _you_ could."

Quinn regards her carefully. "Is this your way of inviting us _both_ over for a play date?" she asks.

"It is," Rachel confirms. "Is - is that something that would interest you?"

Quinn smiles. "Perhaps," she says, sounding a little coy. "Did you have a day in mind? Our schedule's pretty - "

"Flexible, I remember." She watches Quinn's throat bob, the action so distracting. "Is today too soon?"

Quinn looks a little surprised, but still pleased. "That eager, huh?"

"It's all Hugo," Rachel says, blushing quite suddenly.

"Sure," Quinn says, her tone indicating she doesn't believe a word Rachel's just said. "Me thinks you just want another chance to see my abs."

And, that's about all Rachel can handle. She buries her face in her hands, feeling hot all over. "Oh my God," she mumbles. "I can't believe you noticed that."

Quinn gently removes her hands, holding onto them with one of her own and tilting Rachel's head up with her other. "Believe me, I definitely take notice when a beautiful woman checks me out," she murmurs, which does absolutely nothing to help with Rachel's disposition.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Rachel is saved from further embarrassment when they hear running feet approaching, and Quinn very carefully releases her, touch lingering. She's taken a step away when Lex finally rounds the aisle, skidding to a stop at his mother's side.

"Hello, Hugo's Mom," he says brightly, no sign of a pout in sight. "What are you doing here?"

Rachel blinks, caught off guard by the question, because what is she doing here, indeed?

Quinn grins at her. "Yeah, Hugo's Mom, what on earth are you doing here?"

Rachel shoots a glare at her before smiling at Lex. "Well, Lex," she says. "Your mom and I were just discussing the two of you possibly coming over to our house to use our pool this afternoon."

Lex freezes for a few precious seconds before he practically explodes, making fists of his hands and jumping high in the air. "Yes!" he shouts, and then does a little dance in position. "This is the best day of my life!"

Rachel is just amused watching him, but Quinn hasn't moved, her eyes on Lex, just waiting.

Lex seems to come down to earth eventually, and he takes a comically large breath before he's looking at Quinn and saying, "Please, Mommy, please can we go? I promise I'll be extra good and I won't even do somersaults into the water and I'll make sure to feed Sasha every day and I'll be so, so good. Please, please, please can we go? Pleeeeease."

How Quinn doesn't immediately crack is beyond Rachel, because Lex pulls out some impressive puppy dog eyes that have even Rachel considering giving him her kidney. Sheesh. Those things are a weapon.

Quinn eventually gives in, though she holds out long enough for Lex to stop his pleading and ask just once, his voice serious. Rachel thinks that was the point of it all, and it takes some other kind of strength to accomplish it.

Lex does another little dance, which is amusing for both women. Rachel eventually gives Quinn her address and they discuss a time for the visit. Rachel has a handful of things she wants to ask, namely if Quinn is actually also going to swim and, if so, what is she going to wear?

Quinn must sense it, because her smile is more of a smirk.

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"See you later," Quinn says, winking, and Rachel has no idea how she's supposed to survive any of this.

Well.

* * *

Rachel thinks she's prepared.

They're just swimming. Quinn's just going to be wearing something to swim in, surely, and Rachel has nothing to worry about. Which is why she's convinced she can handle just about anything.

And, frankly, she thinks she would be able to, but Quinn is Quinn and Rachel is just now realising that there is something just so stunning about a woman's body, and how could she not have realised this earlier in her life?

Quinn exits the house in a black bikini and short, red board shorts, her hair in a slick ponytail and sunglasses over her eyes, with Lex and Hugo bouncing either side of her.

A bikini.

Rachel thinks she gapes for an embarrassingly long time, but she manages to get a hold of herself, because, hello, there are children around.

But, God, those abs, and that smile and that walk and just _everything_.

Quinn leads the boys towards where Rachel is sitting on one of the deck chairs with Max, a slight smirk on her face. "You aren't seriously going in like that, are you?" Quinn asks, eyeing the white, flowing summer dress she's thrown on over her own swimsuit.

"Don't worry," Rachel quips, finding her feet; "I'm not about to pull an Ophelia."

Quinn raises her eyebrows in surprise at the allusion, but lets out a soft laugh. "Gotcha," she says, smirk still in place as she turns to Lex and Hugo. "Sunscreen," she instructs. "I want to be able to _see_ the layer on you."

Rachel hands Lex the bottle and he squeezes some into his left hand before giving it to Hugo, who does the same. Quinn watches them carefully, pointing out any spots they miss, and then helping with the areas they can't reach.

Rachel splits her focus between that and making sure Max is also covered in lotion, before all her focus seems to zero in on where Quinn is lathering her legs.

Wow.

Okay.

Rachel has to shake herself to stop her staring, because this is just ridiculous now. But look at her. How can anyone stand not to stare at her?

God. This is turning into a terrible idea. She never should have suggested it.

"All set, Officers?" Quinn asks the boys.

Lex does a little salute in response.

"Head on over," Quinn says; "I'm right behind you."

Lex and Hugo practically skip away, and Quinn turns her attention to Rachel, her expression serious.

"So, Lexicon is a pretty decent swimmer, and I know you said Hubble isn't such a confident swimmer," she says. "You should probably know I'm a trained lifeguard, so I can assure you that your boys will be safe with us."

Rachel blinks up at her. "Boys?" she asks; "as in plural?"

Quinn nods. "I'm taking Maximum in with me."

Rachel's hold on Max automatically tightens, and he looks up at her in confusion. "Is - is that safe?" she asks.

"Of course it is," Quinn says, and she sounds so sure. "I'm sure the little turtle already knows how to swim, anyway."

Rachel feels conflicted. "In theory, maybe, but I've never - I don't - "

Quinn drops to her haunches in front of her, hands resting on Rachel's knees. "You're sitting right here," she says. "You can even come in the water with us." She smiles softly. "You can actually tell me no, but I think he'll enjoy it. Let us try."

It takes another minute, but Rachel eventually nods and releases her grip on Max. Quinn smiles reassuringly, and then lifts Max up, her gaze adoring.

"Let's get to it, Little Nemo," she says, hopping a little as she spins and heads towards the pool where Lex and Hugo are waiting at its edge.

"All right, gentlemen," she calls. "Let the fun begin."

Lex beams are her, and then immediately does a cannonball into the deep end of the medium-sized pool, creating a splash large enough to hit Quinn and Hugo's feet.

Hugo looks at Quinn, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Go on," Quinn tells him. "I'm right here. Just have some fun, and we'll work on improving a little later, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise," she assures him. "Ask the lizard there to stay in the shallower water if you're worried, okay? But I'm right here, and I'm watching and I won't let anything happen to you."

Hugo stands perfectly still for a moment, and then jumps into the water behind Lex. Rachel holds her own breath until Hugo's head pops out again and he lets out a happy laugh.

She breathes out in relief and Quinn tosses her a sly look over her shoulder. With Quinn's back to her, Rachel feels a little bit more comfortable staring at her, taking in the muscles of her shoulders and the planes of her back. She's unfairly attractive, and Rachel can't even make sense of the fact an actual human being looks like that.

Quinn stands there for a few minutes, quietly speaking to Max between talking to Lex and Hugo, and Rachel can't bring herself to look away. Eventually, Quinn gets into the water, using the few steps until her lower half is submerged in the shallow end of the pool. She turns a little to the side so Rachel can see the moment Max gets put into the water.

He shrieks, and Rachel's heart leaps into her throat. Her instinct almost makes her go and rescue him, but Quinn just bobs him in the water a few times, dropping her own body further into the water and murmuring sweet words until he calms.

Rachel's heart rate slowly as Max's shrieks turn into gurgles, right until he's laughing, Quinn moving him around with her hands secure under his arms. Her focus is obviously split between Max, and Hugo and Lex, who are splashing each other.

Eventually, Quinn gently urges them to settle and play a game. Hugo opts for something that doesn't include a ball, which makes Rachel smile. Her son is so stupid cute.

They both are. All three of them. Heck, even Quinn is adorable as she pulls funny faces at Max, turning him in the water and letting him get used to it.

Rachel allows the afternoon to settle all around her, a calm seeping into her body that she rarely experiences. She contemplates working on her tan, possibly taking out her book, but she decides neither of those things is appealing to her.

Which is why she gets to her feet and walks towards the pool, choosing to sit on the edge with her legs in the water. Just to be close to them.

Quinn smiles at her, gently gliding Max through the water towards her. "Look who it is, BayMax," she says.

Rachel grins at her baby boy, but feels distinctly warm under Quinn's gaze. And it only gets worse when Quinn very casually asks, "You planning on getting in any time soon?" and does not hide the way her eyes trace the length of Rachel's body.

Rachel audibly gulps. "Eager, are you?"

"Very," Quinn says. "I would very much like it if you would take off that dress to even the playing field here."

"And what game are we playing?" Rachel asks.

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "What makes you think we're playing a game?" she asks, and Rachel feels Quinn's fingers at her ankle. "Playing a game implies there's something to be won, but I reckon it's obvious I've already done that."

"Oh?"

"I'm here with you, aren't I?"

Good God.

* * *

Holding onto her sanity is a bit of a struggle all afternoon.

When she's actually trying, Quinn is even more of a flirt in person, her eyes and her words full of intent.

Rachel even dips into the water for a few minutes, getting cheers from Hugo and Lex and actual clapping from Max. She might confess to doing it all for Quinn's reaction if pushed hard enough, because, my God, it's worth it.

Quinn's jaw literally drops when Rachel removes her dress, revealing a white one-piece and her long, tan legs. Quinn barely says a word for the entire time she's in the water, which would be alarming if it weren't so pleasing.

She doesn't stay in the water very long, though, and Quinn actually turns red when she steps out. It makes her feel as if she's accomplished something being the one to affect Quinn this way. There's dark desire in her eyes that makes Rachel hot all over, and the water was supposed to cool her down.

She towels herself off and slips her dress back on before anything further inappropriate can occur, and then she goes into the house to prepare a few snacks and drinks. There's a certain comfort to this entire day, but there's also a burning tension in the air that's been threatening to ignite for quite some time now.

Possibly since they met, really.

The idea of that is wild; that Rachel has always reacted so viscerally to Quinn because she's actually attracted to her. Because she is. Now that she's recognised it, acknowledged it, accepted it and actually feels ready for it; she knows Quinn is waiting for her to be the one to take whatever step they're about to take next.

Soon, she decides, as she lifts her prepared tray and goes back outside.

And promptly loses it completely.

Whatever battle she's convinced she's fighting just falls to nothing, because Quinn is lying on a deck chair when Rachel comes back out with a tray of lemonade and oat cookies. She's just there, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders, looking calm and relaxed.

With Max completely passed out on her chest.

Rachel almost trips over her own feet at the sight. She can hear Quinn humming, her focus obviously on the pool where Lex is trying to teach Hugo how to do a somersault under water. Just like that, Quinn watches and protects, and relaxes and looks stunning.

Rachel has thought about kissing her, of course, but this is the moment she thinks she might actually do it. She knows Quinn won't be the first to take that step, because they're obviously moving at Rachel's pace.

Whenever she's ready.

Quinn spots her a moment later, and she grins widely. "Henry there was singing your praises about this lemonade," she says. "I'm thinking you must put a little something extra in there."

"My tears."

Quinn chuckles, careful not to jostle Max too much by placing a warm hand on his back.

Rachel sets the tray on the little table between their deck chairs, but she doesn't hand Quinn a glass. Instead, she moves to her side and -

Unable to stop herself, she runs a hand over Quinn's hair, smoothing it down. It's still damp from her swim, but it's soft and warm from the sun.

"Hey," Quinn murmurs. "Everything okay?"

Rachel tucks some hair behind her ear, her own fingers tingling where she's touching her. "Everything is perfect," she says, and she means it. "Just perfect."

Quinn looks a little bemused, but she's smiling. "Tell me you actually put Whiskey in that lemonade," she jokes, and Rachel surprises them both by bending to place a kiss to the top of her head.

Quinn stiffens for a moment, but she relaxes at the contact, and then Rachel is gone before either one of them can say anything. She just hands Quinn a glass, barely able to look her in the eye, her body flushed from the sun and her actions.

Quinn's fingers purposefully brush against hers, and she says, "You like me, don't you?"

Rachel bravely looks at her face, convinced she's looking into her eyes, even though she's wearing sunglasses. "It appears I do," she agrees quietly, and there's really nothing more to it.

* * *

Later, when Quinn has returned to the pool with Hugo, taking the time to help him with his strokes and general confidence, Rachel lounges on her own deck chair, Max in her lap and Lex sitting cross-legged on the other deck chair, sipping at his lemonade.

"Thank you for letting us come over," he says, his eyes so green in the sunlight. His hair is darker than Quinn's normally, but the light of the day makes it seem blonder. The freckles on his nose are also more prominent like this. "Mom won't say it, but I know she gets lonely, so it's cool we could both be here."

Rachel's heart twists at the confession. "Any time, Lex," she says, and she means it. "I want you to know you're always welcome here, okay?"

He grins at her, and she marvels at the very truth that this person is Quinn's son. He's the best part of her, and it is everything.

"Your mom says you've been swimming for a long time," she starts, just curious to learn more about him.

Lex nods, eager to share. "Mom says I learned how to swim before I could walk," he says, giggling. "It's my favourite sport after soccer, and my Aunt Lou and Aunt Jane have a pool in New Haven. We used to go over to their house all the time."

Rachel smiles. "You miss them, don't you?"

Lex hesitates, and then nods. "It's just weird not having them around," he explains. "They're my godmothers, and this is almost the longest I've gone without seeing them."

"Are they going to be visiting any time soon?"

He shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "I think Aunt Lou will make us visit them in New Haven before they come back." He rolls his eyes. "Mom calls her a drama queen."

"My best friend is also a bit of a drama queen," she says, which is a truth that refers to both Santana and Kurt. "What about your best friend?"

Lex's face falls a little. "All my friends are still in New Haven, I guess," he says. "Mom says I'll make new ones, though." He visibly shakes off his melancholy. "And I guess I've made one already, right?"

Rachel returns his smile. "I reckon it's more than just one, Lex," she says, and his answering grin is every bit worth it.


	7. VII

**VII**

Quinn calls an end to their time in the pool when she inspects Hugo and Lex's fingers, calling them prunes and booting them out of the water. They grumble as they go, but they're also yawning and probably hungry.

Rachel has peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches waiting for them, and the boys gobble them up, barely pausing to chew.

"Oi," Quinn says. "Slowly. I'm not dealing with either of you if you end up choking."

Lex offers her a toothy grin while Hugo blushes, and Rachel just looks thoroughly amused by the entire interaction.

At least she's no longer torturing Quinn with her eyes and her hands and her legs and her voice and just everything about her.

Or so Quinn thinks, because now there's a foot trailing along her calf with purpose, and Quinn can't get a handle on her breathing. This woman is going to kill her. That's what's going to happen.

After they've eaten, Hugo and Lex pass out on the floor in the living room, their limbs spread out, hair a lot wild and skin sun-kissed. Quinn offers to move them somewhere else, but Rachel waves her off, choosing rather to cover them both in light TV blankets before she takes Max upstairs to put him down for his nap.

While she's upstairs, Quinn starts on the dishes in the kitchen, just wanting something to do. When Rachel gets back, she knows they're going to have to talk about whatever seems to be happening between them.

There's no escaping it now, and she just hopes Rachel won't run from her. Quinn doesn't think she's in too deep yet, but it would still devastate her if this turns out to be all they end up being. She just doesn't want -

All her worries evaporate to nothing when she feels arms wrap around her waist and a body press against her back.

Oh.

Rachel breathes against her shoulder, warmth seeping through the fabric, and Quinn shivers at the sensation. "Hi," Rachel murmurs. "You know you don't have to do that."

Quinn lets out a shaky breath, her brain short-circuiting at the feel of Rachel's right palm flat against her abdomen, fingers warm and a little ticklish. "I know," she manages to say. "I want to."

Rachel's hold on her shifts and tightens, her hand tracing the midline of her abs. "What else do you want?" she asks, her voice low and dripping with intent, and Quinn thinks she might die. God. This is how she finally kicks the bucket, isn't it?

It's amazing, really, that she was so worried Rachel wouldn't be ready for this, and now -

Now, Quinn can barely take it. She sucks in a sharp breath, making the decision, and spins around quite suddenly, surprising them both. "What else do I want," she echoes, moving right into Rachel's space.

Rachel blinks up at her, lips parted and breath unsteady.

"You," Quinn breathes. "I want you."

And then they're kissing, Quinn's hands cupping Rachel's face and Rachel's hands gripping her t-shirt at her sides, trying to keep herself steady. The kiss is all passion, all lips and teeth and tongue, and Quinn wants her in a terrifying way.

She steps forward, backing Rachel into the island and getting a delightful moan in response. Her hands slide over tan shoulders, along her sides and down to her thighs before her own body reacts and she _lifts_.

Rachel makes a startled sound as Quinn sets her on the counter, but their mouths never detach. She spreads her knees, and Quinn immediately steps into the space, her hands roaming with purpose.

Rachel's fingers slip into Quinn's hair, fisting the strands and bringing her closer. Quinn's heart is pounding, her breath lost to the world as she seeks more of Rachel: her touch and her taste and her -

"Oh, fuck," Quinn groans when Rachel locks her ankles behind her, bringing her flush against her body. It's too fast, she knows. They need to slow down, but, God, she just feels so good.

If anyone had asked what she thought she would be doing this afternoon; making out with Rachel wouldn't have been it. And yet, here she is, with Rachel's tongue in her mouth and her hands on her ass.

Huh?

When did that happen?

They kiss for a lifetime, mouths occasionally drifting to jaws and necks, but ultimately remaining attached. The kisses slow at times, allowing them both to catch their breath, but they don't stop.

Quinn is halfway worried Rachel will panic if they do, so she just keeps kissing her and touching her and making sure she knows this is what she wants. _Rachel_ is what she wants.

It's almost fitting that the reason they have to stop is one of their sons. Max's baby monitor alerts them to the fact he's awake about a half-hour later, and they break apart as if they're just coming back to the world, breathing erratic, lips swollen and faces flushed.

Quinn is wrecked, emotionally and physically.

Rachel stares at her for a long, long moment, and then opens her mouth to say something, only for Max's discomfort to come through again. She glances to the left where the monitor's receiver is showing him shifting around, his face scrunched up.

"I should - " Rachel starts, and Quinn immediately steps back. Well, she probably stumbles, but who's asking?

Rachel doesn't do any better when she slides off the counter, landing on shaky legs and running a hand through her hair.

"I'll be right back," Rachel tells her, and then bolts from the room.

Quinn lets out a long breath, feeling overwhelmed. That wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't planned, and she really hopes she hasn't ruined it before it's had a chance to begin. She was supposed to take Rachel on a date first, wine and dine her, and then kiss her sweetly.

Not practically maul her.

Quinn runs her hands through her own hair, trying to tame it, and then finishes with the dishes before going to check on Hugo and Lex. They're both still asleep, which is a relief, because she really doesn't know how to explain to either of them that she and Rachel are -

Well, Quinn doesn't know what they are.

With a sigh, she settles on the couch and tries to relax. She fidgets with the hem of her shorts, and then taps a tune on her thighs, trying and failing to settle her mind. She's in the middle of coming up with what she wants to say to Rachel when she gets back, when Max's adorable face is suddenly in front of her.

Rachel deposits the baby in her lap from behind, and then kisses her cheek, hugging her shoulders and whispering, "You're cute."

Quinn holds Max steady with her hands as she turns her head to look at Rachel.

"You're cute, and I like you, and I'm freaking out, yes, but I want this, too," she whispers. "I want you, too."

Quinn can't help her smile if she tries, and Rachel presses their lips together for a moment.

"Can we just keep doing this?"

Quinn nods, eyes bright and heart so full. "Anything you want, Romeo," she murmurs. "Whenever you're ready."

* * *

Quinn takes an eager Hugo into Rachel's kitchen when he wakes from his late afternoon nap, and Rachel sits at the breakfast nook to watch them work, her eyes soft with deep, deep affection. Rachel keeps looking at them as if she can't believe they're even there, doing what they're doing, and it's adorable.

Hugo's little hands struggle with kneading the dough they've made for the pizza the boys requested earlier. She's separated it into smaller balls, ready to be spread out, and she knows she's going to have to wake Lex soon, lest he sleep right through the night. She also doesn't want to deal with the sulk when he realises they made his pizza without him.

"Hey, Strawberry," Quinn says, getting Rachel's attention as an idea strikes her. "Think you can get Tex-Lex up? He'll want to decorate his own pizza."

Rachel nods as she slides off her stool and disappears from the kitchen. It's a little odd for Quinn, having someone she can ask to do something like that. Her last relationship was complicated in many ways, mainly because she kept Lex and Blair as separate from each other as she possibly could in the beginning. It was just easier that way, given she didn't even tell Louisa or Jane they were dating until at least four months in.

Then she did the thing most single parents worry about and introduced them to each other. Lex was young, and he was so fascinated by her shiny badge and general Devil-May-Cry attitude that it devastated him in a way she's convinced he still hasn't properly dealt with when Blair was just no longer there.

It isn't even as if they broke up. There were no actual words. All Quinn said was _if you do this, then we're done_, and Blair did the thing, and now Quinn and Lex are here in Lima, Ohio with a Rachel Berry who looks at them as if they could mean as much to her as she and her two sons mean to Quinn.

Quinn wonders if she should be wary of all of this, but she's not going to. There are regrets about Blair, sure, but they're largely outweighed by everything she learned from the relationship. If this thing with Rachel ends up imploding, at least she'll have learned something.

Though, when Rachel comes back into the kitchen with her hand valiantly trying to smooth down Lex's bed hair, Quinn knows she doesn't have much to worry about.

"Good morning, Sleepy Head," Quinn says, smiling at Lex.

He rubs his eyes of sleep as he moves towards her, seeking the hug he normally wants after he's just woken from a nap. She abandons her own dough to rub his back and kiss his hair, feeling him nuzzle against her shirt. "Pizza," he eventually says, more awake now.

"Wash those hands and let's get started, so we can get these in the oven," she tells him, and he silently complies.

Quinn separates her own dough and presents one half to Rachel. "This way, you can put whatever you want on yours."

"Can't I just share yours?" she asks, staring at the foreign substance in front of her.

Quinn chuckles. "No."

Rachel pouts. "But, I wouldn't even know what to do."

"That's why we're doing it all together," she says. "You're not getting out of this one, Cherry."

Rachel exaggerates a groan, and both Lex and Hugo giggle, Max moving around at their feet, content to use their legs to help him stand. It's just so easy, the way they all seem to slot together, and Quinn finds herself having to pinch herself at the fact this is her life.

Rachel puts on some soft music as Quinn instructs them through spreading out their dough, making sure to flour the island-top. She even shows off a little, spinning her pizza base in the air and getting excited giggles from everyone in the room.

"Oh, pizza sauce first," Quinn says, carefully ladling tomato and basil pizza sauce onto each pizza. She then explains the various cheeses and toppings, making suggestions as she does.

Hugo, apparently, is a simple man, and he claims he wants his toppings to be pepperoni and more pepperoni, but Quinn manages to convince him to spruce it up a little with some red and green pepper strips.

Lex's pizza is Tex-Mex inspired, with some ground beef, refried beans and cherry tomatoes, which they'll finish with black olives and sour cream once it's ready.

Rachel says, "Surprise me," and Quinn does an elaborate pesto, corn, goat cheese and sundried tomato concoction that Rachel suddenly can't wait to try.

And Quinn's pizza is simply bacon, pickles and a hell of a lot of cheese. Rachel raises her eyebrows when she sees it, and Quinn gets the shock of her life when Rachel pinches her side and whispers, "You're really making sure you don't get another kiss out of me, huh?" right into her ear.

Huh.

When the pizzas are in the oven, Quinn and Rachel somehow manage to execute an elaborate and thoroughly thought-out bath time, using two separate bathrooms and ending up with all five of them fresh and clean and ready for dinner just forty minutes later.

It's something like a miracle, really, and Quinn is quite proud of them. Her hair is damp and her feet are bare when she returns to the kitchen to take out their pizzas and set the kitchen table. It's a foreign kitchen to her, but the house and the space all feels so familiar.

If she's not careful, she'll never want to leave.

Louisa would have a field day with that thought, calling her the biggest lesbian stereotype.

Quinn has just finished setting the steaming pizzas on the kitchen table when Hugo and Lex come running in, bare feet slapping against the wood, with Rachel following behind, Max secure in her arms.

"Dinner's served," Quinn says, a little unnecessarily. She thinks, maybe, they could be having dinner in the living room. It's a warm summer evening and they're all living their best lives. There are no rules.

And yet, they all settle at the kitchen table to dig in to their pizzas. They exchange slices and bites, trying one another's, save for Rachel, who quietly tells Quinn she's actually a vegetarian.

Quinn gapes at her. "What?" she squeaks. "Wait, no, I'm pretty sure you ate the chicken, pasta thing Chef H over here made."

"Well, of course I did," Rachel says, smiling a little indulgently. "I'm always going to eat whatever my son prepares."

Quinn stares at her, thinking back to that night. It's a fond memory for her, and her recollection is that there was still food on Rachel's plate when she declared herself full; most of it pieces of chicken. Oh.

Rachel winks at her when the boys aren't looking, and Quinn is even more gone on this woman than she ever thought. It's a thought that lingers in her mind as they talk around one another over a meal, and she decides she wants this. She wants Rachel, and she wants this family. Exactly like this.

Louisa is going to tease her to within an inch of her life, and Quinn doesn't even care.

* * *

After they've eaten, Rachel insists that Quinn isn't going anywhere near the dishes. Instead, she offers to clean up with Hugo and Lex while Quinn relaxes with Max and a finger of Scotch in the living room.

Quinn's protests are only as vocal as they are because she embarrassingly doesn't want to be apart from them, but Rachel shoos her away, discreetly patting her ass, so she goes, blushing all the while.

Quinn settles on the main couch and sets Max on the floor between her knees, holding him up on his shaky legs. It takes him a moment to stabilise and he keeps upright with his tiny hands on her thighs when she lets him go. "Look at you," she coos. "Such a strong, strong boy."

His smile is gummy, his front teeth barely visible.

When he teeters a little, she reaches out to steady him, her heart suddenly aching. She and Rachel haven't really spoken properly about their past relationships, which they'll probably have to do at some point, but she can't imagine anyone ever not wanting _this_. This baby boy, who is looking at her with such trusting, adoring eyes.

Well. Here she is, and she wants this. All of it.

Which includes two rowdy boys and a stunning woman, who is determined to drive her insane. When the three of them finally come into the living room, Quinn feels this warmth settle over her. It almost feels as if they've been doing this their whole lives.

"What are you smiling about?" Rachel asks, moving to sit next to her, closer than is strictly appropriate.

Quinn brushes a hand over Max's soft hair. "Nothing," she murmurs. "Everything."

Rachel touches her back, just briefly, and Quinn leans into her palm. She doesn't say anything, but Quinn thinks she gets it. This feeling of being exactly where they're all supposed to be; it exists between them and all around them.

It's present and lingering and engulfing, and Quinn wouldn't have it any other way.

Rachel just amplifies the feeling when it's time for them to leave, Lex already passed out from the excitement of the day. Quinn is the one who suggests it's time for them to go, and Rachel pouts but doesn't dispute it. It's way too early in whatever this is for family sleepovers.

Soon, though, Quinn thinks.

"Do you _have_ to leave?" Rachel asks once Quinn's buckled a sleeping Lex into the backseat of her car and closed the door, and, if she whines a little, she's not even a little bit embarrassed about it.

Quinn just smiles at her, casually leaning against her closed door. "I have to leave," she says. "You know we can't stay."

Rachel pouts, almost without her say-so, and Quinn gently kisses her.

"Plus, Sash could have burned down the house while we've been away."

"Unlikely," Rachel comments. "That dog is more of a human being than I am."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Don't let her hear you say that," she says. "She might get some ideas."

Rachel presses her body against Quinn's, both of them leaning against the car. "Are you scared?" she asks.

"Of what?"

"Of this? Of us?"

Quinn answers without hesitation. "No."

Rachel looks surprised by her certainty. "But how? Why aren't you?"

"Should I be?" Quinn asks. "Are you?"

"Definitely."

Quinn meets her gaze. "Why?"

"Because I know I could fall in love with you."

"And that scares you?"

Rachel buries her face in Quinn's neck, which is answer enough.

Quinn gently rubs her back, hand coming to rest at the nape of her neck. "I wish you wouldn't be so scared of the idea of falling in love," she murmurs. "It's going to be different now, Blueberry. There's nothing to be afraid of with me. I won't hurt you."

Rachel lifts her head, needing to see her eyes. "How can you say that?"

"Because I know I could fall in love with you, too." _If she hasn't already_.

Rachel studies her face in the dark night, and Quinn doesn't dare look away. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We're doing this."

Quinn looks a little bemused. "This?"

Rachel kisses her, lips lingering and fingers curled around her hips. "Exactly this."

* * *

_Good morning, Raspberry! Just making sure you know I regret nothing, I haven't changed my mind about anything, and I still want to do THIS with you. Whatever you want this to be. (Also, I think you agree with me, because, if I recall correctly, you kissed me with my bacon/pickle breath, and if that doesn't tell you something, what else does?) I hope you and the boys have a great day - just know we're thinking about you :*_

Quinn sends the text, knowing Rachel probably woke this morning with a myriad of thoughts and, if Quinn remembers anything about her first relationship with a woman, she freaked out. As much as she wanted it, and as much as she was convinced it was what was right for her, it was terrifying.

So, here she is, ready and waiting for an inevitable freakout...that just never comes. Instead, she gets a snapped picture of Rachel, Hugo and Max all spread out on what looks like Rachel's bed with the caption _Come save us from this pizza hangover_, and Quinn immediately suggests they meet up at the park in the afternoon to see the ducks.

She waits barely a minute before she gets a confirmation, and Lex squeals like an actual banshee when she tells him about their plans for the day. Quinn might have done the same, maybe, but she's trying to play it cool in the face of this new dynamic in which she and Rachel now find themselves.

'Cool' is her spending a little longer picking what she's going to wear and actually worrying about her appearance. It's ridiculous, she knows, but this is Rachel, and she actually wants to impress her.

Quinn wears black cotton shorts instead of denim ones and chooses a snug Yale soccer practice t-shirt that she suspects will make Rachel's eyes linger. She packs a cooler of drinks, fruit and other snacks, and then reminds Lex to bring his soccer ball, frisbee and Sasha's leash and tennis ball. She lathers him in sunscreen, sets a SnapBack on his head, and then they're off.

When they get to the park, Rachel and the boys are already there, spread out on a large picnic blanket and enjoying the sun. Rachel is wearing a floral sundress and a large white sunhat, sitting with her legs crossed at the ankles in front of her while she leans back on her hands and looks up at the sun.

She's stunning.

Lex runs up to them, Quinn following at a more sedate pace. Because of it, she gets to enjoy the moment Lex and Sasha descend on the unsuspecting family and create chaos. Rachel screams in surprise, Hugo laughing until he doubles over and the sound of Max's excited shrieks is music to her ears.

She takes out her phone before she can stop herself and snaps an endless amount of pictures, slowing her approach and just marvelling at the fact this can be hers.

All of it.

She wants it all.

Rachel smiles genuinely when she sees her, the situation having settled around her. Hugo jumps up to give her a hug, and then he, Lex and Sasha are taking off to burn some of their pubescent energy.

Quinn shouts, "Stay close," at them, and then drops onto the picnic blanket beside Rachel rather dramatically.

Rachel laughs at her antics, fingers touching hers between their bodies in quiet greeting.

Quinn leans over her legs to press a kiss to the top of Max's head, delighting in his giggle. "I'm digging the shirt," she tells him. "_Iron Man_ was always my favourite, but you can't tell the Spidey enthusiast over there, all right?" She winks at him. "Good man."

Max touches her cheek for a moment, and then promptly falls onto his back, kicking his legs in the air.

Well.

Quinn looks at Rachel, holding her gaze for a long moment. "You look beautiful," she says clearly. "I'd like it put on record that I've already kissed you in my head."

Rachel links their fingers, keeping them carefully hidden. "Was it good?"

"You definitely don't need me to tell you you're a good kisser, Cherry."

Rachel regards her carefully. "I have to ask," she says. "I can't not ask."

"What?"

"What is with all the nicknames?"

Quinn chuckles as she shifts to lie on her back, lifting her arms and resting her head on her hands, ankles crossed and Rachel in her line of sight. "It didn't really start until college," she says. "When I met Jane, my roommate, the one with the crazy mane of hair. We didn't get along at first - like, at all - and I used to call her everything but her name just to annoy her, and I guess it kind of stuck even after we started getting along. I don't do it with everyone, obviously, but it's definitely required some creativity at times."

Rachel peers over at her. "Are you ever going to call me 'Rachel?'"

Quinn shrugs. "Maybe, maybe not," she says. "When the occasion calls for it, perhaps."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "And, just what occasions are you referring to?"

Quinn grins with mischief. "Occasions that involve no clothing," she can't resist saying, and Rachel immediately looks away, her face flushed.

Quinn enjoys her embarrassment for a long moment before she sits up again and peers into the distance where Hugo and Lex are playing Fetch with Sasha. It amuses her, really, that this once feared dog is basically fully domesticated now.

"Do you want to go and play with them?" Rachel eventually asks.

Quinn nods. "May I?"

"Of course," Rachel says. "Hugo says you're a soccer sensation."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Your son is mistaken."

"What are you wearing?" Rachel asks, pointedly staring at Quinn's soccer practice shirt.

Quinn says nothing as she gets to her feet, purposefully brushing against Rachel until they're both laughing. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I've got Max," she says. "And a book I've been meaning to finish for months now."

Quinn checks one last time, and then dribbles the soccer ball towards where Lex and Hugo are play-fighting over who gets to throw Sasha's tennis ball next.

"Hey, Superstars," she calls out, and she gets matching grins in response. "Think you can keep up?"

Lex takes off immediately, running straight at her, and she dribbles the ball backwards, waiting until the exact moment and nutmegging the poor boy before passing the ball to Hugo. Of course, he panics and sends the return too far to Quinn's right. It's cute and a little sad, but he can only get better.

They play for a while, and, if Quinn shows off a little, she hopes Rachel notices.

Hugo isn't any better at Frisbee, though they all seemed to know that already. He's still having fun, which is all that really matters. They get sweaty and dirty from the grass, and this is the kind of childhood these kids deserve. It's the childhood she's determined to give them, and she'll work damn hard to accomplish it.

Eventually, the three of them trot back to the picnic blanket, Sasha behind them, and Rachel is ready with juice boxes for the boys, a bottle of water for Quinn and the portable water bowl for Sasha. It's all so simple; so easy, and Quinn watches over them, feeling her heart grow to quadruple its size with just how much emotion is bubbling up inside of her.

Rachel glances over at her worriedly when she's been silent a little too long. _You okay?_ she mouths.

Quinn smiles softly as she nods. _Perfect_, she mouths back, and she means it.

She's also pretty sure Rachel can tell.

* * *

_Exactly what would need to happen for me to be able to take only you out on a date?_

Quinn has been thinking about it for a while. Between dealing with whatever mess Noah Puckerman is determined to create for himself, and actually doing her own renovation, all she wants to do is spend time with Rachel, and Hugo and Max.

Doing things as one big family is always going to be a priority for her, sure, but she can't shake the desire to spend a substantial amount of time with only Rachel. She wants to take her out, spoil her and compliment her and do all those things a woman as wonderful as her deserves and shouldn't have to ask for.

_Is this your way of asking me out_? Rachel sends back a few minutes later.

_This is my trying to figure out what stunts I have to pull to make sure the stars align well enough that a date is even possible_.

Quinn waits a full minute while she sets up her portable drill until her phone starts buzzing on the table. She grins at the sight of Rachel's new Caller ID, the picture she sent of her and the boys amid their pizza hangover.

Quinn can't even begin to keep her voice controlled when she answers with a warm, "Hello."

"So, you want me all to yourself, do you?" Rachel asks, in lieu of a greeting.

"God, yes," Quinn breathes, with zero hesitation.

Rachel's own breath catches.

"Just for an evening," Quinn says a moment later. "Getting to know the Mom-you is the best part, believe me, but I want to know the Woman-you, too. God, I want to know everything about you." She pauses. "Every _part_ of you."

"Quinn," Rachel squeaks through the phone. "It is way too early in the morning for this."

"For what?"

Rachel ignores the question and asks, "What are you doing?"

Quinn allows the topic change. "Just making sure all the cabinet doors are secure," she says. "My countertops are being installed this afternoon, and then I can get started on the backsplash."

"Question: is it normal to find your talking shop this sexy?"

Quinn laughs. "Definitely find me sexy, in everything I do," she says. "And, yeah, it's totally normal. If you're lucky, you'll actually get to see me in my utility belt and work boots."

"And if I'm not lucky?"

Quinn grins, alone in her disaster of a kitchen. "I'm sure you'll figure something out," she practically purrs, and she's enjoying this far too much.

"Hmm," Rachel muses. "How's Lex? Sasha?"

"The squirt is currently watching _Miraculous Ladybug_, so I kind of have a black-clad kitty climbing all over my furniture and fighting invisible Akumas, and Sash is just amused by it all."

"You know, if I didn't have children, I wouldn't understand a thing you just said."

"That is a lie, Juniper," Quinn says. "We both know you dig that show."

"I can neither confirm nor deny."

"Smart move," Quinn jokes, and then sighs. "But, seriously, I want to take you out. It can be something totally low-key. We don't even have to call it a date if you don't want to."

"I want to."

Quinn blushes, despite herself. "So, look, Little Rose mentioned the diner does an Open Mic Night on every second Thursday, right? Is that something you'd be interested in going with me? It'll be chilled, just two people out together, getting to know each other without the pressure. And, you know, if you're still willing to date me, I can assure you I'll blow you right out of the water with our second date." She waits a beat. "I also really want to hear you sing."

Rachel is quiet for a long while, and Quinn imagines she's processing everything that's been said. Eventually, she says, "We can make that work."

Quinn waits.

"My parents can watch the boys, Lex included, if that's something you're comfortable with, and we can go to the diner," she says. "Are you sure you want to, though?"

Quinn hears what she's not asking. "Are you worried people will see us and know we're on a date?"

Rachel doesn't respond.

"It's okay if you are," Quinn says, her voice so gentle; so understanding. "If you're not ready for people to know, it's perfectly fine with me. I can tone down the charm while we're there, or we can do something else entirely; something where we probably won't encounter an abundance of people you know."

Rachel breathes out. "You make the mistake of thinking you're charming at all," she forces out.

"I managed to land you, didn't I?" Quinn banters right back. "That's an achievement right there."

Rachel audibly swallows. "I'm - can we - I don't - "

"Hey," Quinn murmurs. "There is absolutely no rush. I'm never going to ask you to do anything you don't want to, okay? If you're not ready, you're not ready. Baby, it's really as simple at that."

Rachel gasps softly.

Quinn just smiles. "Oh, come on, I call you nicknames all the time."

"This one is special."

"_You're_ special."

Rachel laughs. "I take it back - you have charm."

"And it's working?"

"Like you have no idea."

Quinn laughs, feeling her heart expand in her chest. "So, this Thursday?"

"That's in two days."

"Is it too short notice for your parents?" Quinn asks. "And, uh, would they really be okay watching my rat?" She pauses. "Um, not that I don't trust you or anything, but would it be possible for me to meet them before, you know, I kind of just leave my kid with them? Which is probably a heavier question, given my intention to court you, but I would just feel more comfortable with it, if it's okay."

"Quinn?"

"Hmm."

"I really like you."

"Well, that's a relief," Quinn says, more serious than she intends. "I really like you, too."

"That's good."

"Isn't it?"

Rachel breathes out slowly. "So, Thursday," she confirms.

"Thursday."

"I'll confirm everything with my parents, and let you know about times," she says, and then seems to pause. "I - I know we haven't had the talk about parents, but you should probably know I have a bit of a complicated situation."

"Well, I don't have any, so I can use all my complicated-quota on you," Quinn says, easily and without malice. She's bitter about it sometimes, but she's largely moved on. "Anything goes here, Barb."

"Oh, my God," Rachel laughs. "I think that's the worst one yet."

Quinn ignores her. "If this is too much too fast, you can tell me," she offers.

"It's not that," she immediately counters. "It's just that I'm, uh, adopted, and I have two fathers."

"Okay."

"And a sometimes-present biological mother."

"Doesn't sound as complicated as you think," Quinn lets her know.

"Try growing up in that situation and say it again," Rachel points out.

"People can be cruel little shits," Quinn agrees. "Well, you can rest assured that your complicated situation doesn't scare me, or put me off, or make me like you any less or even see you differently."

"Why do you always say the right thing?"

"I'm just saying the thing," she murmurs. "The fact it turns out to be right is merely a bonus."

"What a charmer," Rachel teases. "Think you can handle these two days without seeing us?"

Quinn exaggerates a sigh. "It'll be a struggle."

"I think you'll be fine."

"And if I'm not?"

"Well, I'm sure I could think of a few ways to make you feel better," Rachel says, and her voice drops low.

"Jesus," Quinn breathes.

Rachel laughs. "Okay, let me leave you to get back to work," she says. "Send me pictures of your progress."

"Nope," Quinn says. "If you want to see my kitchen, you're going to have to see it in person."

"I'm choosing to take that in the context it's been said," Rachel jokes; "because you're just dropping euphemisms everywhere."

"Ah, so you _are_ thinking about it?"

"Bye, Quinn."

Quinn laughs out loud. "Wow."

"_Goodbye_, Quinn."

"All right, all right," she chuckles. "Talk to you later, Gorgeous."

"Stop it."

Quinn grins, feeling a little smug, for whatever reason. "Just know that I'm _definitely_ thinking about it, too."

Rachel hangs up to the sound of Quinn's continued laughter.

* * *

If Quinn thought asking Rachel out was going to be the most difficult part of putting together their elusive evening, she's wrong. It's when she's sitting across from Lex at the kitchen table over breakfast, his eyes expectant, that she figures out she's not going to be able to explain why she's going out without him, without actually telling him exactly why.

Lex obviously knows his mother dates women. It's all he's known, really, and, while Quinn has tried to be as truthful about his origins, she's never wanted him to feel as if he's not enough for her. Because he is. He's everything.

Quinn selfishly wants more, though.

"Is it a date?" Lex asks when Quinn tries to skate around the idea that she and Rachel are going to spend time together, away from the children, which is why he's going to be spending the evening with Rachel's parents.

Quinn can say no. She can say it's just an adult group outing where Rachel wants to introduce her to other people her own age, but she doesn't want to lie to her son. Not about this. Never about Rachel. "Maybe," she finally decides. "We're still figuring it out."

Lex looks thoughtful, processing her words. "But you like her?"

Quinn nods. "I like her very much, Lex," she confesses.

His eyes narrow slightly at the sound of his first name in all its glory. It's not even his full name, but calling him 'Lex' has much more meaning than calling him 'Alexander.' Names are important. They've always been.

"Baby Shark," she whispers, her heart hammering in her chest, because she's not sure she'll be able to handle it if Lex actually isn't okay with this. She'll accept it, sure, because he's always going to be the most important person in her life, but it would suck.

It would really, really suck.

"Do - do you not like her?" Quinn asks him, trying to figure out where his… hesitation is coming from.

Lex frowns. "Mom, of course I like Rachel," he says.

"Then I don't - "

"I liked Blair, too," he interrupts, and Quinn's mouth snaps shut with an audible clack. He shifts in his seat. "What - what happens if she also - " he starts to ask, but stops, his bottom lip trembling.

Quinn immediately shoots out of her seat and rounds the table to gather him into her arms, hugging him to her chest and wishing all of this was easier.

Stupid fucking Blair Ricci.

"Does it feel different?" Quinn asks him, pulling back a little to look at his face. "With Rachel, does it feel different than it did with Blair?"

Lex's brow furrows, but he nods, looking a little unsure.

"Why?"

His frown deepens. "I don't know."

"Think about it," she instructs gently, and then waits patiently for the longest time. Her legs are even starting to cramp a little by the time Lex takes hold of her face in his small hands and turns her head to face him.

"Mommy," he says seriously.

"Lex."

"Rachel's not going to leave me."

Quinn smiles, just a little. "No, Baby Shark, she's not," she answers, because it's something of which she's suddenly so sure. Even if she and Rachel crash and burn - which, God, she hopes they don't - there's just _something_ that assures her Rachel will remain in Lex's life in whatever capacity he allows.

She _knows_ it, because it's always going to be the same for her with Hugo and Max. They're already too entwined now, irreversibly linked in all the ways that are everlasting. It's a little terrifying, but Quinn _wants_.

"Okay," Lex finally says.

"Okay?"

"You can date Rachel," he finally tells her, giving her express permission. "But you have to be extra nice to her."

She doesn't need the added instruction, because she already knows she's going to treat Rachel like she's a goddess, but she still asks, "Why?" because she's curious to hear his reasons.

"Because I like her very much, too," he says, sounding very, very serious. "And I want her to stay."

Quinn nods, mirroring his facial expression. "I will do everything I can to make sure she does," she vows.

Lex meets her gaze. "Promise?"

"I promise."

* * *

_What are you telling Lex?_

Quinn has been expecting the question, so she's not too surprised by it when Rachel's name pops up in her Messages. She's certain she's about to alarm Rachel with her reply, so she sets the paintbrush she's been using for touchups aside and prepares herself.

_The truth_, she types back, and her phone starts ringing barely a beat later.

"Hello," she answers.

"What do you mean by 'the truth?'"

"Hi, Baby, how are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking," Quinn says in response.

"Quinn," she sighs, sounding particularly unimpressed with her antics. "This is serious."

"I know," Quinn says with a wince. "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to worry over it."

"How can I not worry about the fact you want to tell your son we're going on an actual date?"

Quinn's wince turns into a grimace. "Well, uh, you should probably know that I already told him," she starts to explain.

"What?" Rachel almost shrieks.

"And he's totally okay with it," Quinn finishes anyway.

Rachel sucks in a sharp breath. "He is?"

"Of course," Quinn easily answers. "Told me himself. It was a sweet moment for us." She pauses. "He also made me promise to be extra nice to you, which I'm maybe a little insulted by, because I've been nothing but a complete angel to you."

"Well, when you're not torturing me with your ridiculously hot body," she comments, almost without thought, and Quinn grins from ear to ear. "Ignore that," she adds a beat later. "Forget I said anything."

"I can't," Quinn says. "You've given me so much right there. There's no possible way I can let this go."

"Quinn, please."

"I mean, not only do you think I'm hot, but you think I'm _ridiculously_ hot," she says. "There is no conceivable way I will ever recover from this."

"You're actually an idiot," Rachel deadpans. "Why are we dating?"

"Until this conversation, my response would have been 'Because you like me,' but my eyes have been opened to new possibilities."

"Oh, my God."

"Which is why my answer is now 'Because I have a ridiculously hot body.'"

Rachel groans. "I don't even know what to say to you right now," she says. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation here."

"You're right," Quinn sighs, mildly chastised. "I just wish you wouldn't worry so much."

"What if Lex tells Hugo?"

"He won't."

"But what if - "

"Rach," Quinn says, and Rachel stops talking. "I have spoken to my son about my intention to pursue a relationship with you. I made mistakes in my last relationship, and I've since learned from them, which is why I felt it important to have an open discussion with him, especially since you're already involved in his life. It was a conversation I felt I had to have with him, and it occurred solely between the two of us and will remain between the two of us. He understands that, I understand that, and I wish you would, too."

Rachel is silent on the other end of the line.

Quinn sighs. "Look, whatever you decide to tell H-Man or anyone else in your life is your decision to make," she says. "I will never make it for you or influence it in any way." She clears her throat. "I'm aware you're not yet comfortable with what all of this between us means for you, and I respect that enough not to out you to my friends without your permission, but my son is different. I know you understand that."

"I - I can't tell him," Rachel confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And you don't have to," Quinn reassures her. "I'm not asking you to tell him. Nobody is."

"Why - why do I feel as if I _have_ to?"

Quinn closes her eyes, her breathing slowing. "Because you love your son," she says. "And the two of you have had a rough few weeks, and you're feeling an entire host of emotions regarding the fact you're starting a new relationship with someone who is as close to him as I am to you." She waits a beat. "In an entirely not sexy way, of course."

"Quinn," she squeaks.

"What?" Quinn asks. "I'm just clarifying that you're the only one I want to get _close_ to that way. It's important you know my intention, and I guess this is my requesting consent, while we're here."

"Are we seriously talking about sex right now?"

"I'm always happy to talk about sex," she answers. "I'm also game _not_ to talk about sex."

"I can't even with you, right now."

Quinn chuckles for a moment, and then grows serious once more. "I wish I could promise that everything is going to be smooth sailing, but I can't, because it's probably not going to be," she says. "With regards to our children, yes, our friends and your family. Society as a whole. Wherever this relationship goes, we're going to face numerous challenges, so please don't let this be one of them.

"When the time comes, you'll tell him," Quinn continues. "When you're ready, you'll tell him. Until then, you are in no way failing him by deciding not to."

"Oh."

"Is that what you needed to hear?"

"I think so," Rachel says, and her voice sounds different. A little more settled. "Yes."

"Okay."

"Thank you, Quinn," she says quietly.

"It's why I'm here," Quinn says, and she means it. "So, we'll meet you at your parents' house at six o'clock," she states, as if she needs to remind either of them.

"Six o'clock, indeed."


	8. VIII

**AN**: So, back in the day, when I first went looking for Quinn's birthday, I found this particular date. Maybe. I can't really remember, but I somehow picked today's date, 10 February, all the way back in 1994. It's rather close to my own birth date, so I just rolled with it. [Aquarians really are the bomb.] So, happy birthday to ForForever19's Quinn Fabray, and here's an update to celebrate. It's the date.

[Also, in my initial research, I found Rachel's to be 18 December 1993, though maybe it's actually 1994, but I really like the headcanon that Rachel is older by a few months, and positively _hates_ it. Quinn loves to tease her about it, of course - because _Rachel, the cougar_.]

* * *

**VIII**

Rachel decides, even before she talks to Quinn about it, that she's not going to tell anyone they're going on a date - she just feels better about the decision after the call has ended.

It's not as if she's actually talking to her friends at the moment, anyway, and she won't even know _how_ to _begin_ a conversation like that with Hugo. God. How is she supposed to tell him she's dating _Quinn_? This woman he so obviously adores, who has proven herself to him time and time again.

If things go wrong between them, is Quinn going to be just another person Hugo loses? And, will her son ever forgive her if _she's_ the one to drive Quinn and Lex away? What if she won't be able to see Lex anymore?

This is a terrible idea.

Why are they even taking this risk?

It's just as those thoughts are floating through her mind that she feels her phone buzz in her hand, her head and heart already knowing it's a text from Quinn. It's almost as if she knows. She just _knows_ Rachel is having doubts, and exactly when she's having them.

_I'm just warning you in advance that I'm wearing my leather jacket tonight. You know, just to prepare you for the sight of my 'ridiculously hot body' in leather. That's all_.

Another buzz.

_Also, I can't wait to see you_.

The feeling that spreads through her isn't explainable, so she won't bother. All she knows is it's overwhelming and completely wonderful. She does her best to hold onto it as she goes through the day, her own nerves ebbing and flowing.

When it's time to get ready - she gives herself only two hours, so she doesn't overthink anything - she panics a little. Normally, she would consult Kurt for something like this, but they're not really speaking at the moment.

She's staring down her disastrous closet when Hugo knocks on her open bedroom door and pokes his head inside, smiling at her in a way he hasn't since before Quinn entered their lives.

"Hey," Rachel says, feeling her nerves spike when he steps into the room.

"What are you doing?" Hugo asks.

"Trying to figure out what to wear," she admits.

Hugo moves to stand at her side, peering into the closet with her. "Where are you going?"

"Just to Rose's," she says, watching his face for any kind of reaction. "With Quinn."

He instantly brightens at the sound of Quinn's name, which makes Rachel's heart stutter. She can't tell if he would be devastated to know she wants to _date_ Quinn; that there's a part of her that wants Quinn for herself. It's maybe selfish, but she can't stop herself from wanting it; wanting _her_.

"Quinn's favourite colour is red," Hugo says. "Should I also wear red?"

Rachel audibly swallows. "If you want to," she tells him. "But, you know that you're going to your grandfathers' house, right?"

Hugo pauses. "Oh, right, yes," he says, frowning. "Does that mean you're going with Lex?"

"No," she says. "Just the adults. You, Lex and Max are going to spend the evening with Grandpa H and Grandpa Lee."

Hugo smiles in response. "Oh, cool, that's even better."

"Excuse you," she jokes, gently pushing his shoulder.

He grins at her, wide and relaxed and happy. "Well, I still think you should go with red," he says, and Rachel tries her best not to read into that.

* * *

Later, Rachel is suddenly thankful for the warning, because Quinn looks ridiculously amazing when Rachel opens the door to her fathers' house to reveal her two favourite blondes.

Quinn is just standing there, wearing tight black jeans ripped at the knees, a sleeveless, low-cut white blouse and black suede boots with just the slightest heel. It's all topped with a black leather jacket that hangs open on her frame to reveal her gorgeous collarbones and the fact the front of her shirt is tucked into her jeans.

Her hair is curled a little haphazardly, as if it's been windswept, and her makeup is just left of smokey, and Rachel can't bear to look away from her for even a second.

In contrast, Lex is wearing a pair of blue cotton shorts, flip-flops and a _Spider-Man_ t-shirt. His hair is sticking up a little at the back, his eyes bright and his smile wide.

"Hi, Rachel," Lex says sweetly, and Rachel loves him, she really does. "You look pretty. I like the colour of your dress."

The compliment catches her off guard, and it takes her a moment to realise she has to say, "Well, thank you, Lex."

His smile widens, and Rachel sees Quinn drop a hand onto his shoulder and give it a light squeeze.

"Hello," Quinn says, her smile so gentle. "It really is a lovely dress."

Before Rachel can reply, Hugo appears at her side, beaming. "You're here," he says, louder than Quinn's probably ever heard him before.

Lex moves forward then, hugging both mother and son with his small arms. Rachel pats his back gently, her eyes on Quinn, who is watching her in return.

The entire greeting probably takes longer than is strictly necessary, because it takes LeRoy calling, "You know, Sweetheart, it's only polite to invite our guests inside."

Rachel flushes darkly, and then waves Quinn and Lex into the house, closing the door behind them.

Truly, Rachel isn't sure what to expect of this moment, and she almost wants Quinn to take the lead. Which is exactly what she does. Quinn is all formal and polite as she introduces herself and Lex to both Hiram and LeRoy, who shake her firm hand and smile at her.

Rachel watches it all, feeling her nerves slowly dissipate. She thinks Quinn has definitely won them over when she reacts to the sight of Max, her entire being lighting up as she swoops down to scoop him up off the floor and pepper his face with kisses.

Then, God, she looks at Hugo, who is giggling at her antics, and she says, "What's that, H-Man? Did you say you'd like kisses, too?"

Hugo immediately shakes his head, trying to back away, only for Lex to press his hands to his back to stop him and keep him within Quinn's clutches, all of them laughing.

Rachel is so engrossed in watching them that she doesn't even realise LeRoy has come to stand beside her until he says, "She's good with the boys."

Rachel audibly swallows, though she doesn't know why. Quinn is good with her kids. That's _it_, but it's everything.

"Is she good with you, too?" LeRoy asks, his voice soft.

"What?" she squeaks.

LeRoy's smile is knowing, but he doesn't elaborate on his question. Whatever he's asking isn't meant to be said out loud.

Rachel glances at Quinn, who, incidentally, isn't paying her any attention. It makes her a little uncomfortable realising that Quinn is basically doing what she thinks Rachel wants her to: acting as if nothing is going on between them.

She clears her throat, and says, "She is, yes."

LeRoy bumps her with his shoulder. "There's no need for you two to rush," he says quietly. "Enjoy your night out without a worry, okay? The boys will be fine, so just - "

"Daddy," she breathes. "We really don't need to do this."

"Don't we?" he asks, mildly curious. "Who else are you talking to?"

Rachel glances at Quinn, who's now talking to Hiram about her grandmother. "I'm talking to Quinn," she says. "She's the first person I feel as if I can talk to about anything and not have her judge me for it."

His face falls for a moment, but it settles eventually, because he must know. It's different with parents. It's just different with fathers and daughters, and Rachel now has this person in her life whom she can talk to.

"I'm glad you've found that, Sweetheart," he says.

Rachel blushes, because this is a conversation she's not ready for at all. "Hugo doesn't know," she says. "Nobody does."

LeRoy nods in understanding, and she can't help wondering if every LGBTQ+ person is born with the Understanding Gene. Quinn questioned nothing, and her father doesn't look at all curious as to her reasoning.

"She said whenever I'm ready," she whispers.

"Sounds like a keeper," he comments, and she's planning on doing just that: keeping her.

"I was sorry to hear of her passing," Hiram says, and Rachel turns her attention to where Quinn and Hiram are approaching. "We used to play Bridge together."

Quinn's smile is a little sad. "I hadn't seen her for a while," she admits. "I have regrets about it."

Hiram rests a hand on her shoulder. "I think we both know she wouldn't want that for you."

Quinn just hums. "I'm working on it," she lets him know, and then comes to a stop in front of Rachel. "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Just about," she says. "Let me grab my purse and I'll meet you at the door." She kisses each of her fathers on the cheek, and then seeks out the boys to say a quick farewell, before she ducks into the kitchen to get a hold of herself.

She's going on a date with Quinn.

She's going on an actual date.

She wonders if it's going to be different once they're alone, because Quinn has played it very cool while they've been in front of her fathers and the boys. She's acting as if they're not going on a date at all, and it worries Rachel, even though it's partly what she wants.

Nobody can know.

It's just that the idea of Quinn turning off her charm is unsettling. Dating shouldn't be this hard, should it? She's aware she's probably making it more difficult than it needs to be, but she sees no other way. She's not ready for _that_, but she's ready for this.

She takes a deep breath, gathers her things, and then heads out to the entrance hall where Quinn is dutifully waiting, smile in place and looking unfairly attractive. Her eyes light up when she spots Rachel, and it strikes Rachel as odd that this woman seems to draw as much joy being in her presence as Rachel does in hers.

She's never really experienced that before. She was just part of a plan for Jesse, a distraction for Finn and something to be kept for Brody.

"Ready to go?" Quinn asks, looking a little uncertain. "We - we can call it off, if you're - "

"No," she blurts. "I'm okay. I am."

"Okay," Quinn says, turning and opening the door. "After you."

Rachel takes a long, calming breath, and then walks out the door, her arm casually brushing against Quinn's front. She hears a hitch in Quinn's breathing, and she can't help her smug smile. She also hopes Quinn takes it as a sign that she _does_ want this, and she wants Quinn to turn her charm back on. She wants the real, genuine Quinn, and she wishes it were easier for her to be comfortable with it. She just hopes Quinn isn't too put off by it.

Rachel realises she needn't have worried, because, as soon as the door closes behind them, Quinn kisses her cheek, carefully linking their fingers and squeezing. "You are stunning," she whispers. "God, I could stare at you forever."

Rachel doesn't move, standing perfectly still and keeping Quinn in place.

"Too much?" Quinn asks, worried.

Rachel kisses her, chaste and purposeful. "Just enough," she murmurs, and relaxes when Quinn smiles.

"Come on," Quinn says, tugging on her hand and leading the way over the porch, down the stairs and towards the driveway. "I want to introduce you to my second baby." She pauses, looking thoughtful. "Or, I guess, third, after you."

"Your what?" she asks, and then gets her answer when she sees a fire red _Mustang_ parked in the driveway, all shiny and muscly. Quinn looks so, so proud when Rachel glances at her. "You really do like the colour red, don't you?" she asks.

Quinn frowns. "What?"

"Nothing," Rachel says, internally amused. "What's her name?"

Quinn laughs, loud and gorgeous. "Believe it or not," she says, moving to open the passenger door for Rachel; "I never could decide on one."

* * *

"Well, if it isn't my two favourite people," Marley says the second she sees them, Quinn's left hand casually resting against Rachel's lower back. "Just the two of you?"

Rachel tenses, almost without her say-so, but Quinn maintains her smile and says, "Thought the adults deserved a night off for a change."

Marley nods, as if she understands. "Totally," she says. "There are tables free near the stage, if you want a good view."

Quinn looks at Rachel, asking a silent question. "That sounds good," she eventually tells Marley. "I'm trying to convince this one to sing, so I can hear what all the fuss is about."

"She's amazing!" Marley almost blurts out, blushing. "Like a total living legend at McKinley."

Quinn grins at Rachel. "Hear that, Superstar, you're a legend."

"Which is really just another way of calling me old," Rachel grumbles, which makes both Quinn and Marley chuckle.

Quinn thanks Marley quietly, and then leads Rachel through the diner. There don't seem to be any children around, but there are small groups of teenagers and yuppies, and other couples hanging around in anticipation for the start of the evening.

Rachel picks a table in the corner, more for privacy than to hide them, and she hopes Quinn knows that. She's not ashamed. She's just - she's not ready.

Quinn pulls out her chair for her, and then immediately moves to her side of the table, her brow furrowed uncomfortably, as if she's quietly chastising herself for displaying her chivalry so openly.

Rachel doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, because Quinn is so adorable and Rachel hates that she has to second-guess herself this way. Rachel's sure people aren't actually looking at them, but she still feels the burn of people's gazes. It makes her skin crawl, and she doesn't know if she'll be able to relax in this environment.

She can sense Quinn watching her; studying her and waiting on her. Quinn says nothing, though, allowing Rachel's shoulders to relax. It happens slowly, almost infinitesimally, and, eventually, Marley brings them menus with glasses of water.

"So, am I putting any names down to perform?" Marley asks, a glint of mischief in her eye.

"Definitely Gooseberry's over there," Quinn immediately says, grinning.

"Already done," Marley says. "What about you, Quinn? You seem like the type to have some musical talent."

Quinn laughs. "I don't know about that."

"Come on," Rachel goads, finally comfortable enough to find her voice. "We can do a duet."

Quinn gives her an uncertain look. "You do realise I could totally suck, right?"

"It'll just make me look better," Rachel jokes.

"I'm feeling attacked right now," Quinn murmurs, looking disgruntled.

Rachel smiles at her, soft and sweet.

It's okay.

She feels okay.

"Fine, okay, sure," Quinn eventually says. "It'd be unfair to send her up there on her own, wouldn't it?"

"That's the spirit," Marley says, smiling brightly. "I'll be back in a bit to get your food order." And then she's off.

Quinn settles into her seat a bit more, her eyes perusing the menu. Rachel already knows what she's getting, so she uses the opportunity to look at Quinn, who is even more stunning in the dim light of the diner. It really transforms itself on Open Mic nights, giving way to more of a café vibe, and Rachel knows this is Marley's proudest night, having come up with the idea herself.

Quinn looks pleased when Rachel mentions it. "Is this some kind of music town?"

Rachel shakes her head. "Not really," she says. "If you're going to look at it based on National Championships, then it's definitely not a football one, though our show choir did win it once, when I was a senior."

"Total legend."

"It's probably a cheerleading town," Rachel says, ignoring her. "The Squad was unstoppable when I went to McKinley, but they hadn't won again until Santana took over a few years ago."

Quinn's smile flickers at the mention of Santana's name, and Rachel feels as if it's something they should probably discuss. Even though Rachel isn't too happy with her friends at the moment, she's bound to tell them about this gorgeous woman she's dating at some point, and -

Marley comes back before Rachel can say anything, ready to take their order, and Quinn invites her to go first. On dates she's been on before, her companions have had the tendency to want to order for her, as if she isn't capable, but Quinn looks relaxed and accepting.

"Oh, uh, I'll just have the mushroom stroganoff, please?"

Marley scribbles something on her little notepad, and then looks at Quinn expectantly.

Quinn clears her throat. "Can we please get a village salad for the table?" she asks, leaning forward slightly. "And I'll have the beef burger with sweet potato fries, as well."

Marley jots it down, smiles widely, and then bolts.

Quinn looks at Rachel, a bit of mischief in her eyes. "I would ask if beef is a dealbreaker, but I think bacon and pickles set a marker, so I'm definitely guessing I don't have anything to be worried about."

"You're an idiot."

Quinn winks at her, which is just not fair. "And, yet, you still like me."

Rachel is proud of the fact she doesn't immediately look around to see if anyone has heard Quinn. It _could_ just be considered some friendly banter. There's nothing to worry about; nothing giving them away.

"Tell me about your day," Quinn says, and she looks so genuinely interested that Rachel startles a bit. They've been texting throughout the day, and still Quinn wants to know some of the basic, boring things.

Eventually, she says, "Hugo knows your favourite colour is red."

Quinn blinks, and then allows her eyes to wander down over Rachel's body that is, incidentally, covered in a red dress. Rachel suddenly feels hot all over, warm under Quinn's gaze.

It is hot in here, right?

"Oh, so, does that explain this particular outfit choice?"

"My son picked it."

Quinn smiles. "At least he has choice," she says. "If I let my son dress me, I would've shown up in khaki shorts and a _Captain America_ t-shirt."

"So, just your everyday clothes, huh?"

Quinn fakes a laugh. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"I do, actually."

"Confused woman."

Rachel looks right into her eyes, just as Quinn lifts her glass to her mouth, and says, "Not anymore."

Quinn chokes on her water, some of it dribbling out of her mouth. She reaches for a napkin to catch it, glaring at Rachel in the process. "Why?" she accuses. "Just, why?"

Rachel just smiles as innocently as she can manage, and then sips at her own water.

"You're not getting any dessert," Quinn says.

"We'll see about that."

Quinn grins at her. "Wow, you're just on a roll tonight, aren't you?"

And, Rachel feels fine. She's calm and relaxed and very focused on Quinn and nobody else. They're on a date. Wow. Surely, it shouldn't feel this easy just to exist with another human being. It's just never been before, and she can't tell if something's changed about her, or if it's Quinn.

Is it because Quinn is a woman? Or because she's just not anyone else Rachel's dated?

"Hey," Quinn suddenly says. "Where did you go?"

Rachel breathes out, and then blurts, "I've never dated a woman before."

Quinn's smile is soft, a mixture between amusement and understanding. "Would you be insulted if I tell you I kind of figured that out on my own?"

Rachel blushes. "Because I've been such a disaster?"

Quinn chuckles. "It may have contributed, yes, but it's not the main reason."

"What is?"

"It's you," Quinn says. "Even just the way you look at _me_. It's as if it's all so new to you."

"It is," Rachel confirms.

Quinn shifts forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Though, sometimes I get the feeling the 'newness' you're experiencing has very little to do with my gender."

Rachel shifts in her seat. "My dating record isn't anything to write home about."

"What makes you think mine is?"

"You just seem… more put together when it comes to this kind of stuff."

"This kind of stuff?"

Rachel gestures between them. "Relationships, I guess."

Quinn seems to ponder that. "I think I give off that impression, because I'm not wary of the fact you're a woman," she says, her voice careful. "But, I've had some terrible experiences, as well."

"Blair?"

Quinn freezes, her eyes widening as the colour drains from her face. "What?"

Rachel panics at the reaction. "Uh, Lex once mentioned the name," she rushes to explain. "In the hardware store. Something about yelling at you. I'm sorry."

Quinn doesn't say anything or even move for a long, long time, and Rachel worries that she's ruined everything. Eventually, Quinn clears her throat and says, "Blair was probably the most significant relationship I've ever had." She looks away. "It didn't end well, at all. I - I'm prepared to tell you about it, but perhaps now isn't the time."

Rachel nods vigorously. "Of course, yes," she says. "Sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay," Quinn assures her. "I'd just rather tonight be about us, if that's all right."

Rachel just keeps nodding, mentally kicking herself for making things so awkward. "That sounds perfect."

It takes a few minutes, but they're finally able to get back to something that resembles easy banter. Marley helps by bringing their food, her joy infectious, and Quinn seems to relax even more when she's able to talk about their food.

"I'm not actually a fan of mushrooms," Quinn says, carefully chewing one of her fries.

Rachel gapes at her, scandalised. "What?"

"I know," Quinn groans. "I just _can't_. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"And Lex? Is this something genetic?"

"Loves them," Quinn says with a shake of her head. "I can't explain it. He's weirdly a fan of quite a few vegetables. Even Brussels sprouts."

"That's not normal."

"You're telling me," Quinn comments. "I think it's the _other_ genes running through him, to be honest."

Rachel is tempted to ask, because she wants to know everything about Quinn, but she holds her tongue. It's not as if she wants to be talking about any of her past relationships. Right now, or ever.

So, instead, they talk about food and wine and Quinn's kitchen and Rachel's songwriting and Max's growing confidence at standing. It's the only time they really delve into speaking about their children, which is both a relief and surprising. A little refreshing, too, because most of her conversations usually revolve around her children or her relationships.

Quinn did say she wanted to get to know the woman, Rachel Berry, and Rachel feels weirdly compelled to give this woman exactly what she wants.

* * *

"We are not singing _Lady Marmalade_."

Rachel gives Quinn her most innocent look, but Quinn isn't buying it.

"No ways," Quinn says. "There is absolutely no way. Like, I will walk right out of here and wait for you in the car."

Rachel pouts. "Well, at least I know you won't just leave me here."

Quinn gives her a serious look. "Has someone done that before?"

Rachel ignores the question in favour of looking through the song list on her phone's screen. They haven't really thought this through, given they don't actually have the backing music for any songs with them. Or lyrics.

"You should just sing by yourself," Quinn says, allowing her question to remain unanswered. For now, though, because there's suddenly a growing hitlist in Quinn's mind.

"No," Rachel says. "We're going to find a song you can sing."

"I just want to hear you," Quinn argues. "It's all I want."

"And, I want to hear you," Rachel immediately counters, and then smirks a little. "Though, I'd rather it be in an entirely different setting."

Quinn glares playfully at her. "You should know, Raindrop, that I am purposefully leaving all innuendo out of all my comebacks, mainly because I'm respectful."

"And I'm not?"

"Not right now, you're not," Quinn says, a little primly. "You want us to sing _Lady Marmalade,_ for goodness' sake."

"It's a great song," Rachel points out. "And, you can't even sit there and tell me you don't know the lyrics."

Quinn says nothing.

Rachel smiles in triumph, wincing when the performer just taking to the stage prompts some feedback from the microphone. "Ouch," she murmurs, as her finger continues to scroll. "Ooh, what about - "

Quinn reaches for her hand quite suddenly, her eyes a little wide.

"What? What's wrong?"

Quinn takes her hand back after a quick squeeze. "It's okay," she says softly. "It's okay. I promise it's okay, and I'm here and not going anywhere."

Rachel's frown deepens in confusion. "What are you - "

"Hi, Rachel."

She freezes.

Of course this would happen.

_Of course_.

Quinn sits a little straighter in her seat, her face taking on something exceptionally blank, and Rachel wonders if there's more going on when it comes to Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman. She hasn't asked Quinn how that particular dispute is going, and, based on Quinn's reaction, it looks as if it's nothing good.

"Didn't know you were going to be here," Noah says, his eyes solely on Rachel, as if Quinn isn't even sitting there. It makes Rachel's skin crawl, because there's absolutely nothing to be ignored about Quinn Fabray.

Still, she nods, ever polite, and says, "Well, yes, we thought we deserved an adults' night out."

"Totally get that," he says, which he obviously doesn't, because how can he? "That's what the guys and I are doing."

Rachel looks over her shoulder to where he's just indicated, and her stomach churns at the sight of Finn sitting with Jake and Tristan. She quickly looks away, determinedly not meeting Finn's gaze.

"San and Britt are actually on their way," Noah says. "They mentioned trying to get a hold of you."

Rachel sighs, because this night has the potential to turn into a disaster if that happens.

"You should join us," Noah offers, and then very purposefully says, "whenever you're done here."

Rachel lifts her gaze to look at him, unsure what she's going to see there, and she's a little thrown by the sudden smirk on his face. One glance at Quinn and the woman's left eyebrow has arched.

"We might be a while," Rachel says, her voice tense.

Noah looks momentarily surprised, but he quickly schools his features. "Sure, whatever," he says. "It's not like we're going anywhere." And then walks away.

Rachel can feel stares on her back. Glares, really, and she knows they can't stay. There's no way they can.

Quinn senses it, too, and she leans forward, her right hand twitching on the table. "Do you want to get out of here?" Quinn asks.

Rachel barely hesitates. "Please."

* * *

"Don't laugh."

Quinn gives her an incredulous look. "Never going to happen."

Rachel mirrors her expression. "It could."

"I promise it won't."

Rachel looks out the windscreen for a moment, taking in their view. It's not much, but it's secluded and quiet and it's just the two of them looking into some kind of ravine. If she were anyone else, Rachel might think it's the beginning of a horror film.

Well.

"Please will you sing something," Quinn says. "I won't laugh. I just - I just _really_ want to hear you."

Still, Rachel eyes her skeptically. "Promise?"

Quinn's features soften to a point where Rachel actually has to look away before her own heart explodes. "I promise," she vows, her voice low and heavy with _something_.

It makes Rachel feel inexplicably nervous, which is so strange. As if this moment holds more importance than either of them even knows. It probably does, and Rachel tries not to read too much into it when Quinn takes hold of her hand and just holds it.

"Can I sing you a song I wrote?"

"Baby, you can sing _Mary Had a Little Lamb_ for all I care," Quinn assures her. "But, yes, please, I'd love to hear something you wrote."

"It's called _Get It Right_," Rachel explains. "I went through quite a rough time in high school." She pauses. "And in college. Just in life, in general, I suppose, so it's a little bit about all of that."

Quinn just nods, her eyes never straying from Rachel's face the entire time she sings. It feels so intimate in a way that's terrifying. The song is stripped bare, an a cappella version that shows off her range and all her vulnerability.

And, still, Quinn sits and watches, her gaze focused and her mouth set into a soft smile as she listens.

_What can you do when you're good isn't good enough?  
__And all that you touch tumbles down?  
__My best intentions keep making a mess of things  
__I just wanna fix it somehow  
__But how many times will it take?  
__Oh, how many times will it take to get it right, to get it right?_

When it's over, Quinn says and does nothing. She just continues to sit there, eyes a little wide, looking stunned. "Jesus Christ," she eventually breathes. "I was not ready for that."

Rachel can't even look at Quinn in this moment.

"You are amazing," Quinn says. "God, what the hell are you still doing here?"

Rachel frowns, a little confused. "What are you - "

Quinn suddenly leans forward, surprising them both. "There are so many things I want to say to you right now, but all I can think about is how your voice just made me feel." She does a little jiggle in place, visibly shivering. "Watching you, hearing you - _God_."

Rachel has no idea what to say in response. Nothing.

Quinn eventually settles back in her seat, smiling a little sheepishly. "Sorry," she says. "I just - yeah, you're fucking amazing."

Rachel preens, a little embarrassed by how much warmth spreads through her body at being complimented by a pretty girl.

"All I want is for you to keep singing," Quinn says; "but I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend the rest of our night doing that."

"Well," she says a little coyly. "My Daddy did give me express permission to stay out as long as I want to."

Quinn grins at her. "Is that so?"

Rachel sobers slightly, her brow furrowing in thought. "I think he suspects what's really going on, mainly because I probably suck at being subtle."

"You do," Quinn agrees, and then laughs when Rachel swats at her arm. "It's true, though. You've wanted me since you laid eyes on me and you haven't known how to deal with it at all."

"Tell me you never panicked," she huffs.

Quinn's smile slips from her face. "I did," she says. "It took me years to be comfortable with it, and, by the time I was, I had a son and my family wanted nothing to do with me."

"I've never met your family, but they sound horrible."

Quinn shrugs. "It's their loss. My kid is pretty great."

"He really is," Rachel echoes, smiling softly at merely the thought of Lex. "You've done such a great job with him, Quinn."

Quinn reaches for her hand and pulls it into her lap. "I - it's always been a worry of mine."

"Mine too," Rachel whispers. "I - I don't know I would have done anything without help."

"It does take a village," Quinn quips.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Rachel contemplates her next words, because she's not sure she wants to shed light on the strife even her 'acquaintance' with Quinn has caused with her friends. "I assume Louisa and Jane were great helps when Lex was born?"

"Oh, definitely," Quinn answers quickly, snorting lightly. "Sometimes, it's as if he has three mothers."

Rachel's brow furrows. "But, you're his mom, right? They know that? They respect that?"

Quinn looks serious. "They do, yes," she says. "I think it was different before they got married and had their own child. They've always been involved in his life, but whatever decisions to be made about his life come from me, though Blue is never hesitant to provide her opinion."

"What about the people you've dated?"

Quinn frowns. "I'm not sure what you're asking."

"Did they have a say in who you let associate with Lex?"

Quinn shifts slightly. "Well, no, not really," she says truthfully. "They trust me to decide what's best for him, because it's _my_ job." She licks her lips, thoughtful. "My last relationship, Blair, I waited a while to introduce her to Lex, which was mainly about her hesitance around children. Not everyone is comfortable with them."

"Was she, in the end?"

Quinn clenches her jaw. "I think she was more interested in being his friend than possibly being a parent to him."

"And what did Louisa and Jane have to say about that?"

"They wanted me to be happy," Quinn says. "And, for a while, I like to think I was."

"But...?"

Quinn smiles a little. "We're going on only our first date, Cranberry, and I'm already happier with you than I've ever been with anyone else."

Rachel blushes, ducking her head to hide it.

"Hey," Quinn says, getting her attention. "I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but I think I have an idea. _You_ are Hobart's mother. You gave birth to him, and you're raising him to the best of your ability. Needing help is not a failure. Asking for help doesn't make you any less of a parent. Assistance isn't conditional, and I hate that anyone has made you feel as if you're making the wrong choices."

Rachel fiddles with the hem of her dress. "I chose Finn, and that was wrong."

"No," Quinn says, stern. "Baby, no."

"It's true, though," she argues. "You can't say it was right."

Quinn takes a deep breath. "What I think would have been wrong is staying with him after you knew his character," she says. "People present themselves differently to different people. You have to trust yourself."

"I trust you," she says, which isn't what she initially intends to say.

Quinn looks a little startled, but she eventually smiles. "Then listen to what I'm saying," she says. "Children are tricky. So are relationships. The entire thing is a minefield, and there will be times like this when you question everything, but I'm here to tell you that you're doing great."

"Only because I've had help," she adds. "And that means - "

"It means nothing," Quinn says, her voice picking up an edge that Rachel's never heard before. "You owe nothing to anybody, okay? Do you hear me? Nothing."

Rachel gulps, surprised by how attractive she suddenly finds Quinn. Her gaze is hard and unforgiving, and Rachel wants to kiss her.

"You are Hugo's Mom, and that's it," Quinn says, her tone severe. "If you want or need any help, you call me, okay? I will _never_ hold it over you or against you or remind you of it or even use it as an excuse to get something from you."

Rachel stares at her in a little wonder, because there's no way she's real. She can't be. "Where did you come from?" she asks.

Quinn grins at her. "New Haven, remember?"

Rachel smiles, looking very amused. "I remember," she murmurs, and her gaze drops to Quinn's lips for a moment.

"What else do you remember?" Quinn asks, her voice lowering in register, a breathless quality to it.

"So many things," Rachel murmurs.

Quinn shifts closer, almost without Rachel's notice. "Oh?"

"Uh huh."

"Like what?"

Rachel's gaze drops again, watching Quinn's lips as they move. She audibly swallows, _wanting_. "Quinn," she breathes, giving express permission.

And Quinn kisses her, deeply and slowly. Her heart thumps wildly, her breathing ragged, and all she wants to do is touch and taste and feel. She wants nothing more than to exist in this moment forever.

Quinn shifts closer, leaning over the centre console and gripping Rachel's hips. For whatever reason, the action makes Rachel feel like a teenager, stealing kisses in a parked car and giggling all the while. Quinn tastes like coffee and something sweet, her mouth warm against Rachel's.

"We're totally doing this," Rachel says between kisses, her breathing completely ragged. "We're totally making out in your car, oh my God."

Quinn sucks on her bottom lip, eventually trapping it between her teeth. "Hmm," she murmurs. "It'd be way more authentic in the backseat."

Which is really how Rachel finds herself with her back pressed against leather seats, Quinn solid on top of her. It's overwhelming being kissed so thoroughly and touched so desperately. There's a controlled excitement to the way Quinn kisses, one hand keeping Rachel's leg hooked around her hip, and the other gentle against her cheek.

Rachel keeps her one hand in Quinn's hair, gripping tightly, and the other wrapped around her bicep. It's supposed to keep her steady, but just being able to feel Quinn's muscles under her fingers, now that the leather jacket is somewhere on the floor, has Rachel's blood boiling. She wants to touch more of Quinn, almost desperately, so she does. She untucks Quinn's shirt and slides her hand under the white fabric, both of them gasping at the first contact.

"Baby," Quinn chokes out, and it's almost a warning.

Rachel doesn't heed it, rather digging her nails into the delicate skin of Quinn's back and forcing Quinn's hips forward. The kiss changes then, going from sweet desperation to something hot and heavy, the windows even steaming. Quinn kisses with little abandon, her mouth moving to the same rhythm as the rest of her body, and Rachel is just trying to keep up.

Rachel knows they're not going any further than this tonight, though she can't be sure _how_ she knows. Just that she does.

So they kiss and they kiss, and Rachel imagines the world has slowed to a stop all around them. It's just the two of them existing in this little bubble, Quinn's breath in her ear and her hands everywhere.

It feels so good to be wanted this way, sure, but there's more to it. There's so much more to it, because Quinn isn't pushing for that one thing everyone wants.

God, even Rachel wants it right now, her body begging for some kind of release.

"Quinn," she groans when teeth sink into the skin over her collarbone. "I swear, if you leave a mark, I'll - "

Quinn bites down a little harder.

"Oh, my God," Rachel gasps.

"You'll what?" Quinn asks, sounding so infuriatingly smug.

Rachel's fingers grip at her hair and she drags her head back up. "Shut up," she hisses; "and kiss me."

Quinn has always been rather good at doing what she's told.

* * *

Rachel can barely look her fathers in the eye when she and Quinn finally show up at their house almost an hour later. She's aware she must look a sight, dress wrinkled and hair ruffled. Her lips feel swollen and her skin is still flushed.

She's also sure she's going to have a litany of bruises on her breasts by the time she gets home.

Quinn, on the other hand, looks very, very pleased with herself. It isn't anything obvious, but there's this glint in her eye that is unmistakable to Rachel.

"Did you two have a good evening?" Hiram asks as they all stand in the entrance hall.

Quinn nods. "It was great," she says. "I didn't know Lima had such talent."

"Did you manage to convince Rachel to sing?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Oh, she sang, all right," she says, a little sly, and Rachel wants to bury her face in her hands.

LeRoy chuckles a little knowingly. "She is our superstar," he says.

"It seems almost unfair that we get to keep her all to ourselves," Quinn says, almost offhandedly, and the three members of the Berry family shift awkwardly.

Maybe this isn't the moment Rachel falls in love with Quinn, but it's something close.

* * *

It's almost inexplicable the way Rachel blushes the next time she sees Quinn just two days later. She just can't help it, given whom they are to each other now.

Well.

There aren't any defined labels for their relationship, and Rachel can't think of Quinn as her 'girlfriend' without feeling a little juvenile. She's _not_ some teenager in some all-consuming new relationship. She's a mother, for goodness' sake, and they're building some kind of partnership.

And, yet, she feels giddy and light and so stupidly childish the second Quinn comes through the door of her house with a _Marvel_ SnapBack on her head and a smile so wide that Rachel wonders if it hurts.

She's also wearing those stupid denim shorts and a white tank top, which really means Rachel can see the outline of her white bra that has red kisses all over it.

Rachel is definitely not okay, and Quinn is obviously enjoying this far too much.

Quinn does something she's never done before and actually hugs Rachel. It's a quick one, just a 'hello,' which is followed by another hug from Lex.

The Fabray family piles into her house as if they belong, and Rachel wouldn't have it any other way.

"Who's hungry?" Quinn asks, her voice just a little too loud.

Hugo bounds up to her, even as Lex stays near Rachel, his left hand loosely holding the fabric of her pants. "Chef Hugo, reporting for duty," he says, which makes Quinn laugh.

She looks at her son. "Are you joining us, young apprentice?"

Lex shakes his head. "_Miraculous Ladybug_ is on," he says, and then looks up at Rachel with those searching, deadly eyes. "Please can I watch TV?"

Rachel melts. Right into a puddle. Lex is _so_ dangerous. Rachel looks at Quinn for some help, but she just winks at her, and then shuffles Hugo towards the kitchen, letting her make the decision all by herself. It's too much pressure.

"Please," Lex adds a moment later, and there is no humane way to say no.

She rests a hand on his back, gently guiding him into the living room. It feels so easy, just getting him settled into her space; into her home, like he just fits. And, really, he does. It's so stupidly adorable the way he removes his shoes and lays them in the corner of the room. He looks a little sheepish when he returns, and Rachel just hands him the remote.

"Will you watch Max?" she asks him.

"Of course," he says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "Maybe today will be the day we finally get a step out of him."

"Maybe," she quietly agrees, watching her baby boy moving around on his mat in front of the television.

"Crossing fingers," Lex says, beaming, and then turns his attention away from her, settling himself on the couch and tucking his feet under his body.

Rachel watches him for a moment, feeling her heart expand in her chest, and then leaves him to it, wanting him to feel comfortable, which is difficult to accomplish with some woman just staring at you.

Well.

Rachel's observing tendencies just find another target once she finds herself in the kitchen. Quinn and Hugo have made significant progress by the time she settles on one of the stools and does her best not to stare at the wonder that is Quinn Fabray in her element.

Rachel has spent quite a bit of time observing her friends and partners with their own children, and then with hers. There's usually some kind of difference, which is definitely expected, but Quinn seems as comfortable with Hugo as she is with Lex, treating them both as if they're their own people.

There are times that Quinn glances at her, as if she's making sure she's not overstepping, but Rachel just finds it all so fascinating. Watching Quinn interact with her son is everything she's ever wanted in a partner. Brody couldn't do it, and Finn doesn't even compare.

Quinn is literally cooking dinner for their families in her kitchen.

Their _family_.

Where in the world has this woman been her entire life? What has Rachel done to deserve her at all, let alone now?

Quinn grins at her when Hugo pulls a face at the lemon wedge he's just stuck in his mouth. "Check your kid," she says, rolling her eyes. "Thinking he's so cool."

"I _am_ cool," Hugo defends, opening and closing his mouth to dispel the sour taste on his tongue.

Quinn just laughs as she drops a kiss onto the top of his head. "Squeeze that juice in there, Bud," she says. "We'll discuss just how cool you are when you can get through an entire day without needing a nap."

Rachel raises her hand as if she's in a classroom. "Uh, I'm pretty sure _you_ can't get through a whole day without catching a nap."

Quinn sticks out her tongue at her. "Well, nobody asked you."

Rachel just grins at her, looking inexplicably happy. She feels it, too, knowing that some of the most important people in her life are currently in this house. There's just so much love in her heart, and -

"Mom!" Lex suddenly yells from the living room. "Rachel! Hugo! Mom!"

Quinn takes off and is out of the room before Rachel can even get off her stool. She stumbles over her own feet in her haste, unsure what to expect when she almost falls over as she enters the living room.

Quinn catches her before she can hit the ground, saying, "Look."

Rachel looks.

Max is standing on the carpet, his feet steady, and far away from any kind of support. His arms are in front of him, his face twisted in concentration.

Rachel holds her breath, watching in absolute wonder as Max takes a shaky step forward, and then another and another.

Before losing his balance and dropping onto his bottom.

They all cheer.

Lex drops to his knees to wrap Max in a hug, and Hugo collapses on both of them, so much laughter in the air.

Rachel feels tears spring to her eyes, because this is a gigantic milestone for her son and Quinn is here for it.

Quinn, who looks as emotional as she feels.

Quinn, who reaches for her hand and pulls her closer and right into a hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around before setting her on the ground again.

Rachel chances a look at their boys, sees that they're occupied, and then risks a kiss against Quinn's cheek.

It's possibly the best day of her life.


	9. IX

**IX**

_I have to go to the hardware store today. Think we can make it our second date?_

Quinn chuckles as she reads Rachel's text, taking a break from tiling the backsplash in her kitchen. She's almost done, in fact, and she actually needs to pop out to the hardware store for a few final items herself.

_Not very romantic, is it?_

_Well, I'm pretty sure we can find a secluded spot to make out._

_When you put it that way ;)_

_Maybe we can get lunch after? Hugo's been waxing poetic about having Indian food since the two of you made that chicken curry the other day_.

Quinn grins to herself, because Hugo has really taken an even bigger interest in cooking since she's been around, and she's quite chuffed that it's something she can be a part of.

_Well, if we're going to be including our kids in our dates, then I'm pretty sure we've been dating a while, Ms Berry._

_Does that mean you've been counting?_

_To be perfectly honest, I kind of have. Though, I haven't been able to pick an actual date, you know, for a year from now when we celebrate our anniversary._

_Do you really think we'll still be together a year from now?_

_I have no doubt in my mind._

_How can you be so sure?_

There are so many things Quinn can say, but she's certain Rachel isn't ready for them. If anything, even she's not ready. So she goes for something a little safer.

_I've seen the future ;)_

_I'm dating a Seer?_

_It's cute that you have that on hand._

_If you're about to tell me that HP is a no-no for you, we're breaking up right now_.

Quinn rolls her eyes, because Rachel can be a bit of a nerd sometimes.

_Meet you at noon?_

_I'll bring the Chocolate Frogs_.

* * *

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Rachel blinks up at her, looking a little confused. "I - I - "

Quinn's brow furrows. "Did I do something wrong?" she asks, and she looks genuinely bemused. "It's just that you said it'd be easier if I ordered for the table, and I - "

"It's not that," Rachel says, her eyes a little wide. "It's just that you also ordered vegetarian dishes."

Now, Quinn _knows_ she's confused. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you told me you're a vegetarian," she says. "You have to be able to eat something. Was I not supposed to?"

Rachel reaches for her hand under the table, linking their fingers. "People usually don't remember."

"Oh."

Quinn glances at their sons, who have a set of crayons and several sheets of paper between them, provided by this family-friendly Indian restaurant. They even have a high chair for Max and a selection of soft foods with minimal spices for him to try, if they're interested.

Quinn is definitely coming back here.

She squeezes Rachel's hand in her own and looks her in the eye. "Well, I remember," she says. "I promise your vegetarianism isn't some burden or nuisance to me. I respect it, okay?"

Rachel's bottom lip trembles a little, and Quinn's eyes widen in panic. "I'm okay," she's quick to say. "I just - I really appreciate you, Quinn."

"Okay."

"I wasn't always a vegetarian," Rachel eventually says, using her other hand to make sure Max doesn't end up throwing his stuffed elephant into their glasses of water. It's a multitasking masterclass, and Quinn admires her so much.

"Well, I'm sure you weren't born a vegetarian," Quinn jokes.

Rachel just squeezes her hand again. "I'm trying to tell you I was actually a vegan."

"Oh, my God."

Rachel laughs. "All through high school," she elaborates. "I switched to a vegetarian in college, because, God, being a vegan is sometimes so inconvenient on a student budget. When Hugo arrived, there was just no way I could keep it up, and now I'm perfectly fine cooking whatever for the family as a whole, and then just picking out the meat."

"But then where do you get your protein if you're doing that? Are you replacing it with some kind of meat alternative?"

Rachel blinks. "What?"

"Not that I'm creepy or anything, but I _do_ notice everything about you, and your diet is not balanced, as healthy as it is."

Rachel just stares at her.

Quinn shrugs, blushing slightly. "I took a class in nutrition as a freshman," she says. "Back when I was convinced I could maybe, eventually work in the field after I retired from being a professional soccer player."

Rachel looks as if Quinn has just revealed the secrets of the world, her expression one of wonder. "You _are_ a soccer sensation."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have played past college," she says, her left eye twitching, which she knows is her own sign of an untruth. She had great dreams of changing the world, somehow, and a career in soccer was just going to be a platform to do just that.

Then Alexander Lucas Fabray was born, and Quinn's dreams changed.

She didn't even realise he _was_ her dream until he was a squirming bundle placed in her arms. Until this moment, nothing has come close. This secondary dream, involving Rachel and her boys, has definitely switched things up for her; presented her with a new future.

"Is that something you would ever get back to?" Rachel asks her, one eye on Max, who is growing slightly restless.

"Playing soccer?"

Rachel nods.

"God no," she answers with a laugh. "I'm perfectly happy doing what I do, thank you very much."

"Which is write?"

Quinn glances at her. "Yip."

"You don't talk about it that much," Rachel points out, which is the truth. Quinn avoids speaking about her profession like it's something to be embarrassed about. She isn't, for the most part, but she writes under a pseudonym for a reason. She's always had Lex to consider, and she enjoys a sense of anonymity, even if authors aren't generally in the spotlight. Ask her to pick Suzanne Collins out of a lineup, and she would fail epically.

"Maybe I'll start," Quinn says, meeting Rachel's gaze.

"I'd really like that."

Quinn's heart can't handle this. It honestly can't, because there's a woman who actually exists in this world who seems to _want_ her in a way Quinn's never experienced. She doesn't mean to compare this relationship to her previous ones, but she can't help it, and she gets the feeling Rachel does the same.

They're startled out of further conversation by the arrival of their food, and the moment between them fades away. It's not technically a date, but Quinn thinks they learn a lot about each other as they sit and eat and talk with their children.

Well, Quinn's sure Rachel learns a hell of a lot about her general capabilities when both families retreat to Rachel's house, so Quinn can help with all the baby-proofing Rachel has planned, now that Max is growing more and more steady on his feet. He's adorably wobbly, still, but he's now curious, and having a mobile baby who's curious requires a lot more baby-proofing than the house currently has.

So, Quinn spends parts of the afternoon seeing to it, fully aware of Rachel always within a few metres of her. Watching her. Studying, observing and, dare Quinn say, admiring.

"It's the utility belt, isn't it?" Quinn asks her, calling her out when they have a moment alone. Max is napping and the boys are upstairs, making a mess in Hugo's bedroom.

"It's only part of it," Rachel agrees, and then closes the space between them to kiss her. They're just inside the kitchen, Rachel having made them coffee to tide them over, but neither of them seems interested in the hot beverage.

Quinn has never tasted anything sweeter. They kiss slowly and sweetly, and Quinn even presses Rachel against the counter, listening with one ear for any sounds of their children, prepared to break apart at the first slap of bare feet.

Rachel's fingers thread through her hair, pulling her closer. Quinn shifts her hips forward, and Rachel groans right into her mouth. "You take care of me," she whispers, which is some kind of truth for them both. "You take care of us."

Quinn kisses her harder, and Rachel's left hand snakes down her side, along her muscles, and her fingers hook into her belt loops.

"Damn," Rachel murmurs. "Maybe it is the belt."

Quinn laughs, breaking their kiss. "Have certain fantasies about it, do you?"

"About you, yes."

Quinn rests her forehead against hers. "We take care of each other," she says. "We take care of one another."

Rachel kisses her again and again, holding her close. Quinn thinks there's still an element of disbelief in their actual relationship, and she's not sure how to get Rachel to believe she's in this for now, and for as long as Rachel will have her.

Have _them_.

"I do have a certain fantasy," Rachel says, licking her lips.

"Oh?"

"About your utility belt."

Quinn raises her eyebrows.

"And _only_ your utility belt."

* * *

"Christine has been missing you," Jane tells Quinn later that evening, both of them managing to sync time to have an actual _Skype_ call.

"Just my little Tulip?" Quinn asks; "or her mothers as well?"

Jane rolls her eyes. "I'm being serious here, Quinn," she says. "I have a plan."

"Oh?"

"This weekend, we're all going to meet in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania."

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"It is," Jane says. "It's relatively halfway between Lima and New Haven. It's perfect. We'll get to see you, and you'll get to see us, so I won't have to deal with an extra cranky Detective and two-year-old."

"So, it's really all about you, huh?"

"As it should be."

Quinn considers the suggestion, her mind automatically thinking about Rachel. Rachel, her… person, whom she now has to consider when making any kind of plans. It's interesting and terrifying and lovely, and all she wants is to _tell_ Jane about their relationship. "Tell me more," Quinn says.

Jane clears her throat and makes a show of turning a few pages in her diary, hunching over. "Lou can get off at lunch on Friday, and then we'll head out to meet you and Lex at the hotel."

"Hotel?"

"I've already made a reservation."

"Of course you have."

Jane grins at her. "I'm giving you the option, of course, but you don't have a choice," she says entirely too seriously.

"I'll have to check my schedule," Quinn says, arching an eyebrow.

"Sure you will."

Quinn rolls her eyes, panicking ever so slightly. She wonders if she should be planning for a trip _with_ Rachel. Would Rachel even want that? Does she maybe want some space instead? They've been interacting quite a lot lately, and, well, Quinn doesn't want to overwhelm her.

"Okay," Quinn eventually says. "Send me what time we need to leave and what I need to pack."

"Do I have to do everything?"

"Yes."

Jane rolls her eyes. "You're lucky I love you."

Quinn grins at her. "I am, yes."

* * *

Quinn can't quite figure out if she's supposed to be asking Rachel for permission. Her blessing. Her acknowledgment. Something.

It comes up the next day, when Rachel calls about making plans to take Lex and Hugo for that paintball Quinn once mentioned.

"Over the weekend?" Quinn asks, wincing as she gets milk out of the fridge for her coffee.

"Does Saturday work?"

Quinn hums softly. "Uh, not really."

"Oh?"

"We're going to Bellafonte," Quinn explains. "Under duress."

"Where?"

"Bellafonte," Quinn repeats. "It's in Pennsylvania."

"What on earth are you going to do there?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she admits. "All I know is we're basically meeting New Haven halfway. Apparently, we're missed, and Janet's organised quite the expedition for us."

"Oh?"

Quinn hesitates. "Is - is that okay?"

Rachel is quiet for a moment. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I'm not sure," she admits. "We're... together now. I feel weird about just telling you I have these plans without you."

"Quinn, you know you can do things without me, right?"

"I'm still trying to convince myself I even want to."

"Aw," Rachel says; "you like me."

"I do," Quinn breathes, unashamed. "I really, really do."

Rachel sighs dreamily. "When do you leave?"

"Friday afternoon."

"Maybe we can have dinner at my place tomorrow night, then," she offers. "A tiny little farewell."

"We'll be back Sunday," Quinn lets her know.

"It's Wednesday, Quinn," she points out. "Are you willing to go at least five days without seeing one another, because I'm not?"

"Aw," Quinn echoes; "you like me."

"I prefer Lex," Rachel jokes. "He actually likes berries."

Quinn laughs out loud, casually stirring a teaspoon of brown sugar into her coffee. "You're never going to get over that, are you?"

"I can't even tell you how it feels to know the woman I'm dating doesn't care for any kind of berry, when my surname is literally Berry," Rachel says. "I honestly can't even."

Quinn's laughter fades slowly. "You're cute."

"I like to think so."

Quinn hums. "What are you doing right now, anyway?"

"Trying to figure out what to make for dinner," Rachel answers.

"Just ask Herman," she says. "The kid knows what he likes."

"Don't you want to come over?"

"That is a trick question, Bagel," she says. "Obviously, I want to."

"But...?"

"We're having dinner tomorrow," Quinn points out. Then: "Also, we're doing something just the two of us when Baby and I get back, okay?"

"Okay."

"That was surprisingly easy," Quinn comments.

"If you didn't suggest it, I was definitely going to," Rachel confesses. "I really, really want to kiss you again. And maybe do other things."

"Other things?"

"Other things that maybe make you use my real name."

Quinn sucks in a breath. "That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?"

"That I could make you wild enough to say 'Rachel?'"

"Jesus."

"Rachel," she says. "Ra-chel, say it with me."

"You're evil," Quinn says. "Pure evil."

"Hmm," Rachel says, neither agreeing nor denying. "Well, I will admit that the fantasies I've had are decidedly not _pure_."

"Fuck."

Lex pops up out of nowhere, making Quinn shriek. "That's five dollars in the swear jar!" he squeals.

"Jesus," Quinn says again, Rachel laughing in her ear and Lex doing an excited little dance at the money he's just scored.

Quinn can't even bring herself to be irritated.

* * *

Rachel drags Quinn into her laundry room the first opportunity she can, kissing her fiercely and barely giving her the opportunity to breathe. Her hands slide under Quinn's t-shirt, fingers trailing over hot skin and making Quinn burn.

"I don't want you to go," Rachel says, sounding a little petulant.

Quinn kisses her harder, taking back some kind of control. They probably have less time than they think, so Quinn makes the most of it, pushing Rachel back against the washing machine. Her lips move from her mouth to her neck, nipping and sucking, as her hands move over Rachel's curves.

"Quinn," Rachel murmurs, asking for something.

Quinn's hands drop to her thighs and she lifts, setting Rachel on the washing machine, which - fortunately or unfortunately - is off, and wraps those tanned legs around her hips. The kiss turns dirty, Rachel gripping Quinn's hair as they move together, hearts pounding and arousal building.

"We - we - fuck, Rach," Quinn stutters, forcing her mouth to disengage. "We have to stop, or I won't be able to."

Rachel lets out an exasperated breath, her hands dropping from Quinn's shoulders. "We are spending time together, just you and me, when you get back."

"We already agreed," Quinn reminds her.

"I'm just making sure," Rachel says, dropping her legs from around Quinn's hips and sighing. "This sucks."

Quinn laughs. "I should tell you that I am _very good_ at sucking."

Rachel pushes on her chest. "Get away from me."

Quinn presses a kiss to her lips, and then steps right away. "You've got me all worked up, and now I have to go and cook dinner for our children. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Rachel just hooks a finger into one of her belt loops, drawing her closer. "I have no shame," she says, almost purring. "How can I, when you look the way you do?"

Quinn can't resist the urge to kiss her again, crowding her space and overwhelming them both. They're lucky they get the five minutes they do, because then Hugo comes calling, forcing them apart.

Quinn smooths her hands over her hair, trying to tame it while she ignores Rachel's smug expression. "You truly are evil."

"Never tried to deny it."

And, truly, Quinn can't even be mad about it.

* * *

"Hey."

Rachel looks up from where she's doing the dishes, smiling at Quinn. "Hey."

"Might I ask a favour?" Quinn asks, walking into the kitchen and smiling so warmly that Rachel wants to kiss her. And hug her and hold her for all of eternity.

"Of course."

"Would you mind watching Sash for the weekend?" Quinn asks. "She's capable of staying on her own for a few days, of course, but I wouldn't want to leave her alone if I don't have to."

Rachel looks curious. "How would she stay alone?"

"She's a very disciplined dog," Quinn answers. "There's a dog flap to allow her to come and go, and I would leave out all the food and water she would need." She pauses. "Or, I guess I could find a kennel, though I'm not sure they would take her on such short notice."

Rachel shakes her head, as if it's absurd that Quinn would think she wouldn't agree. "We can watch Sasha," she says. "I think Hugo and Max would love that, actually."

"Possibly make you miss us less," Quinn teases, getting closer to Rachel.

"Unlikely," Rachel says, turning her body to face Quinn.

"Oh?"

"Not to sound clingy or anything, but I already miss you and you're still here."

Quinn smiles softly, her own heart stuttering at the sound of those words. "I've been a bit worried that I've been overwhelming you," she admits. "I started to think you might need some space."

"Why would you think that?"

Quinn gnaws on her bottom lip. "I guess it might have something to do with Blair," she says quietly. "There were times when she needed a break from us, I guess, and she wouldn't quite let go of her own apartment, saying it was a retreat of sorts."

"Well, I don't need a break," Rachel says, and she looks and sounds genuine. And maybe a little irritated with the information Quinn's just told her. "I'd keep you around all the time, if that wasn't too weird."

"Not weird," Quinn says.

Rachel glances over Quinn's shoulder to make sure no little heads are within visible distance, and then leans forward to kiss Quinn's lips. It's chaste and perfect, and speaks of many more to come.

"Thank you," Quinn murmurs.

Rachel just kisses her again, and then says, "Anytime, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn is convinced she means it.

* * *

Quinn and Lex have lunch at Rose's before they set off for Bellafonte. Marley looks surprised to see just the two of them, which Quinn finds particularly funny.

They do things without Rachel and her boys, surely.

"We didn't get to hear you sing," Marley points out when she brings them their food, a Cobb salad for Quinn and a chicken mayo sandwich for Lex. "I was looking forward to a potential duet."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "It was going to be awful."

"I definitely don't believe that."

Quinn pops a crouton in her mouth. "Rembrandt mentioned the Open Mic Night was your idea."

"Who?"

Lex giggles. "She's talking about Rachel."

Marley nods. "Oh, right," she says. "And, um, yes, I guess it was my idea. My mom lets me take full rein."

"It seems like a special night," Quinn says. "Sorry we couldn't stay for all of it."

Marley just smiles, always so polite.

"Do you like music a lot?" Lex asks Marley.

"I love it," she gushes. "It's honestly my favourite thing in the world."

"Does that mean you also sing?" Quinn asks.

Marley blushes, and then nods. "It's what I want to do for the rest of my life," she says. "Songwriting, too. It's why I admire Rachel so much. She paved a way for girls like me." She pauses, giving Quinn a rather significant look. "I just wasn't sure how much we actually had in common until recently."

Quinn blinks, unsure what she means by that.

Marley just shakes her head, blushing that bit more, and then says, "I should go check on the other tables."

Quinn is still very confused when Marley leaves, and it takes Lex rolling his eyes at her to realise she's possibly being dense.

"Mom," he says, sounding so done with her.

"I don't know," she says, a little defensive. "I mean, she's not trying to tell me she has a crush on me, is she?"

Lex takes a bite of his sandwich. "Not you," he says, and then makes a point of looking over his shoulder at the front counter, where Kitty is currently wiping down the surface.

"Oh," Quinn says. "Oh."

Lex shakes his head. "Mommy, you're silly."

Quinn really has no current evidence to dispute that statement, because, honestly, she feels it. Huh.

* * *

Quinn almost gets tackled by Louisa when she and Lex first step into the hotel foyer. It appears that being apart has made Louisa fond of hugs, and she practically squeezes the life out Quinn.

"Dude," Quinn complains.

"Shut up," Louisa mutters, setting her on the ground and moving on to Lex, just as Jane moves into Quinn's personal space with Christine hanging off her shoulders.

Quinn grins stupidly as she hugs them both, and then takes Christine into her arms. She's definitely missed her goddaughter something fierce.

"Do you want to get checked in, and then we can get dinner?" Jane suggests. "I spent six hours in a car with this idiot who's done nothing more than say she wants tacos."

Quinn laughs. "Sure, Jake, we can do that."

Louisa asks the concierge the best place to get tacos while Quinn gets their room key, she and Lex disappearing upstairs for a few minutes to deposit their bags and freshen up a little.

Quinn sends a text to Rachel, letting her know they've arrived, and then spends the next few hours enjoying her best friends and allowing the familiarity of New Haven to wash over her.

Louisa goads her into piling jalapeños onto one of her tacos, which is amusing at best. She ends up having a second mojito, only after Jane insists she'll remain sober enough to make sure nothing goes wrong.

"Enjoy yourself," Jane tells her, and Quinn does.

Quinn's missed her friends and she's missed the city life. She stands by the decision to move, because she definitely needed it. She likes to think Lex did, too, because the reminder of Blair everywhere they turned was just too much.

Quinn wouldn't say she's drunk, but there's a certain tipsiness that creeps into her interaction with Louisa. Which is really why Jane sends them both into Quinn's room, while she keeps Lex and Christine with her when they get back to the hotel.

"My wife doesn't love me," Louisa complains as she throws herself onto Quinn's bed and pats the space beside her. "But, you love me, right?"

"Most of the time," Quinn says as she kicks off her shoes and joins her, stretching her body out and sighing.

"Ouch," Louisa pouts.

Quinn just grins at her. "I did miss you, though."

Louisa smiles a little dopily, her eyes slightly unfocused. "So, how is your MILF situation?" she asks.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Who even taught you that?"

"I'm a millennial, Q," she says; "I know things."

"You obviously don't know enough not to use that acronym."

Louisa pinches her arm. "Answer the damn question."

Quinn drops her gaze, feeling a little overwhelmed by how much she wants to gush about her new relationship. She thinks she could talk endlessly about how being with Rachel makes her feel, but there's also a certain beauty in keeping it all to herself.

"Quinn?"

She clears her throat. "We've been hanging out," she admits. "The boys are getting along really well, which is good."

"Brownie points, huh?"

Quinn looks at her, her expression a little too serious. "I really like her, Louisa," she says. "It terrifies the shit out of me."

Louisa grows still. "Quinn?"

"It's the worst it's ever been," Quinn confesses. "Why are women just so..." she trails off, unable to complete her sentence.

"Dude," Louisa says, commiserating. "The life of a woman who loves women can be rough. They're just so fucking perfect."

Quinn nods in agreement.

"What are you planning on doing about it? I mean, do you even know if she'd be interested?"

Quinn smiles softly. "I reckon I've got a chance," she says. "If I play my cards right."

Louisa rolls onto her side to look at Quinn properly. "You're taking care of yourself, right?"

"I swear, if you mention my private parts, I'm going to strangle you."

Louisa laughs. "I wasn't going to, but I still stand by the truth you need to get yourself laid."

Quinn can't help thinking about Rachel; about possibly getting her naked and touching her and making her fall apart with her own body. God. Quinn desperately _wants_.

Louisa pokes her stomach. "Please don't be having sex thoughts while I'm in the room."

"Like you haven't done the same," Quinn complains. "About my best friend, no less."

"But, come on, have you seen how hot my wife is?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Please stop."

Louisa laughs. "But, in all seriousness, you're taking care of yourself, right?"

"I am," Quinn answers, because she likes to think she is. "Things have been good."

"And Lex?" Louisa asks. "Has he brought up Blair?"

Quinn contemplates her response for a moment, before she decides on saying, "We had a talk about what I may or may not be feeling for someone new. I wanted to be sure he was comfortable with it, given how I handled everything the last time."

"And?"

"He likes her," Quinn reveals. "I have received his blessing."

"Are you worried?"

"Not as much as I thought I would be," she admits. "I'm going to keep checking in with him as things progress."

Louisa snorts. "You sound quite sure of yourself there, hey, Q?"

Quinn chuckles. "I'm a fucking catch, Lou."

Louisa has nothing in rebuttal.

* * *

In the morning, after a buffet breakfast at the hotel's restaurant, Jane tells them the agenda of the day. Louisa grumbles, as is expected, but Quinn's oddly curious to learn about this town Jane has brought them to.

It's old and historical and Victorian, and she's starting to think it's a place she might actually want to bring Rachel to one of these days. It's almost magical, from a different time, and rich in history.

When they're all ready to go, Christine strapped in her push chair, hats on their heads and skin layered in sunblock, Jane leads them on a self-guided walking tour of the Bellefonte Historic District. As an architect, she goes a little crazy for the various buildings, looking so much like a tourist with her town map held open in front of her.

Lex stays glued to her side, Quinn and Louisa trailing behind with Christine. Louisa looks a little pale, and Quinn pinches her side, teasing her about her lack of sun.

"Work has been particularly rough," Louisa tells her. "It's like the crazies have just come out, committing murder everywhere."

"They're overworking you?"

Louisa shrugs. "I think they're planning on expanding the department," she says. "People have been whispering about promotions."

Quinn looks over at her with concern. "What does that mean for you?"

"Nothing, really," she says. "It's possible I might get a new partner, because Mark has been wanting to transfer to Cyber, now that Stacey's given birth to their third child."

Quinn can hear something very specific in her voice. "You're thinking about it again?"

Louisa casts a nervous look in Jane's direction. "I'll never forgive myself if something ever happened to me," she says. "God, just the thought of her having to _take care_ of me makes me want to quit."

"Lou," Quinn breathes.

She shakes her head. "She'll never let me, I know."

"Why are you so convinced something's going to happen to you?"

"My job is dangerous, Quinn," Louisa says. "I've watched my colleagues die. In _New Haven_."

Quinn slows her steps. "Is this a conversation we're really having?" she asks. "Like, the kind of conversation we have when you tell me you've made me your Power of Attorney and not your wife?"

Louisa can't even look at her.

"Louisa," Quinn hisses, and both women come to a rather abrupt stop. "We are not having this conversation. Ever."

"We're going to have to."

"No, we're not."

Louisa levels her with a very significant look. "It isn't only for my benefit," she says. "Have you even thought about what happens to Lex if, God forbid, anything happened to you?"

"Don't do that," Quinn says, tense. "Don't even turn this around on me when you're the one who's being all morbid and defeatist."

"I'm being realistic."

"You're being an idiot."

Louisa glares at her.

Quinn sighs. "And, for your information, of course I've thought about it," she says. "I've spent _years_ thinking about it. How can I not, when I'm the only _blood relation _he has in this world?"

Louisa looks at her. "Who?"

Quinn clenches her jaw.

"Who?" Louisa repeats.

"You know who," Quinn tells her.

"And you weren't even going to talk to me about it," Louisa accuses.

"No, I wasn't," she snaps right back, the two of them squaring off on the sidewalk with Christine looking between them with wide, confused eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because, Lou; the sheer idea of leaving him with someone who isn't me isn't really something I want to be discussing with anyone."

"Not even me?"

"Not even you."

"So, what? He's just going to be ours? Just like that? Without us having talked about it?"

"Yes!" Quinn explodes.

"How can you just say that?"

"Because there's nothing to talk about," Quinn says. "God. You know it as well as I do. There is _nothing_ to discuss. We're not talking about it, because we already know what the other person is going to say. I already fucking agree, and so do you, so why the hell are we even wasting our goddamn breath discussing something we already know?"

Louisa just stares at her, and it's the first time she realises Jane and Lex have also stopped walking, both of them looking perplexed at whatever showdown she and Louisa have just had.

"Mommy," Lex says, recovering. "I don't even know if that's six or seven dollars in the Swear Jar."

Jane just pats his shoulder. "I think you can get a whole ten out of her, Bud."

* * *

"So… do you want to tell me what that was all about?"

Quinn looks up from where she's reading up on some history on the Bellefonte Armoury. Jane has kept mumm about whatever fight she and Louisa had earlier, acting completely normal as they passed through the Centre County Courthouse and the old Pennsylvania Match Factory.

But, now, Louisa is further ahead with Lex and Christine, and Quinn is left to face the music, as it were.

"What was what all about?" Quinn asks, playing dumb in an attempt to buy herself time.

Jane is having none of it. "Louisa will get her turn," she says. "Whatever you tell me will determine if I make it painful for her."

Quinn puffs out a breath. "That's not fair," she says. "My response will just clue you in to more of what went down."

"Then just tell me."

Quinn glances at Jane. "You are my family," she says. "Out of everyone in this world, you are the people I consider to be my family."

Jane's smile flickers, clearly not understanding what this has to do with anything.

"I'm the same for Lou."

Jane blinks. "But not for me?"

Quinn shifts awkwardly. "It's different."

"Because my blood family hasn't shunned me for being gay?"

"Something like that."

Jane seems to ponder that. "I still think there's something you're not telling me."

"There's a lot I'm not telling you."

Jane gives her a curious look. "It's about her job, isn't it?"

Quinn doesn't respond.

Jane sighs heavily. "I thought as much," she mutters, and then slides right into Quinn's space, slipping an arm around her waist and hugging her close. "You _are_ my family, Quinn Fabray."

"I know."

"You know, if I didn't love that ridiculous redhead so, you'd be my one and only."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "We both know we would have killed each other by now," she says. "Being your roommate was one thing, but living every day with you - wow, no thank you."

Jane pinches her side, and Quinn yelps. "Just tell me you love me and you're going to be here for us, always."

Quinn looks right into her eyes when she says. "Jane Monica Rodriguez, I love you, and I promise to be here for you, always."

Jane blinks slowly. "How has nobody snapped you up already?"

Quinn looks away, hiding her blush. "I'm high maintenance or something like that."

"Don't I know it."

* * *

After their tour, they pick up a takeout lunch from a local restaurant and make their way over to Talleyrand Park for a bit of a picnic. It reminds Quinn of their park back in Lima, and she laughs when she really figures out why. Because, trust Lex to find the place where the ducks have congregated. It's as if he has a built-in duck radar, which is actually a little terrifying.

Jane finds them a spot near the Spring Creek and takes charge of setting them up with their food. Quinn allows herself to enjoy being able to switch off, a little. It's a little exhausting always being _on_, and Jane seems to be giving her the opportunity to _follow_ someone else's lead.

Even Lex seems to be enjoying his mother, who's relaxed and present and _free_. She lets him eat whatever he wants, which definitely includes a bubblegum milkshake that he practically guzzles.

"Goodness, Lex," Louisa says, eyes a little wide; "Does Quinn not feed you or something?"

Lex grins at her. "She feeds me, and I feed Sasha," he says with a cute little shrug. "Mommy says milkshakes are for special occasions."

"And this is a special occasion?"

"Of course," Lex says, giving her a bit of an incredulous look. "Every time we see you will be a special occasion." He blinks. "So we have to see you _all the time_."

"Sounds like a solid plan, Kid," Louisa agrees, taking a bite of her burger and giving herself sauce whiskers.

Quinn's heart very nearly bursts out of her chest when Christine crawls over to her with a dirty paper napkin clutched in her left fist and lifts it to wipe at her mother's mouth.

Goodness gracious, the baby fever is _very real_.

"Oh, my God," Quinn murmurs, exchanging a look with Jane, because what cuteness is that?

Jane eventually clears her throat, holding out a steadying hand when Christine returns to her mac and cheese bites. "Speaking of, who is Sasha with, anyway?" Jane asks, biting off a piece of her quesadilla.

Quinn almost blushes. "Uh - " she starts.

Thankfully, Lex answers for her. "Sash is with Hugo," he says. "We dropped her off at their house."

Jane blinks. "And Rachel was just okay with that?"

"She loves Sasha," Lex says. "Everybody does."

Jane keeps her eyes on Quinn, who makes a point of not looking back. It's already difficult enough not to talk about Rachel without her friends actually bringing her up, and her heart is racing at the thought of having to keep lying.

Omitting.

"Interesting," Jane comments, returning her attention to her food.

Oh, boy.

Though, if Quinn expects Jane to say anything more about it, she's surprised when she actually doesn't. Instead, they take a slow stroll through the park before making plans for the evening. Quinn offers to keep the children occupied if Jane and Louisa want to explore the nightlife, which Louisa is very quick to accept.

"Princess can even sleep with me," Quinn tells them. "You know, in case Mommies want a wild night, or whatever it is wives do."

Louisa shoves her shoulder and says, "Has it really been so long that you've forgotten how to say 'have sex?'"

Quinn swats her hand away. "Keep that up and I'll rescind my offer."

"Please don't."

"Then be nice."

"I'm always nice."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I have it on good authority that the rookies are fucking scared of you."

"As they should be."

"Ooh, the big, bad Homicide Detective Louisa Stone."

Louisa shakes her head. "Why am I even friends with you?"

"Because JR would divorce you so hard if you weren't."

Louisa's eyes widen. "Dude," she says, nodding her head almost dumbly. "She totally would."

* * *

Quinn can't stop her laughter when she and the kids come downstairs for breakfast the next morning. Jane and Louisa look _wrecked_. Eyes bloodshot and skin pale, both of them frowning at the world.

"Wild night, huh?"

"Shut up," Louisa grumbles, practically gulping her coffee.

Quinn just shakes her head, taking a seat at the table and adjusting Christine in her lap. "Mommy looks a little green, doesn't she, hey, Chris?"

Christine claps her hands in agreement, reaching for Quinn's silverware. Jane diverts her attention by handing her a small roll, and then asks if they had a good night.

"Yes, Mama," Christine says, smiling toothily before attempting to sink her teeth into her roll.

"We built a fort," Lex says. "Mommy even had them bring us more blankets."

Jane looks at Quinn. "The Fort-Quinn strikes again, huh?"

Quinn grins a little lopsidedly, feeling irrationally happy at Jane's bringing out her old nickname. It was borne of the Roommate Wars of their freshman year. Quinn would build intricate forts in their shared room, and then leave them for Jane to find and have to dismantle when she returned from classes. It took years for Jane to find it at all amusing, and now Quinn suspects she misses it.

"We had a great time," Quinn says. "Though, in comparison, at least we don't look like raccoons."

Louisa rolls her eyes. "I don't think we've even slept," she admits.

"Oh, so it was _quite_ the _wild night_," Quinn teases.

"Shotgun not driving," Louisa says.

Jane doesn't even react, and Quinn reasons she's come to accept her wife for all she is. It's beautiful, really, and Quinn can't help wondering if she and Rachel will ever get to this point in their lives and relationship.

She really, really hopes so.

Besides her own past relationships, Quinn doesn't have much to compare to, given the toxicity of her own parents' marriage and the fact she's met her sister's husband only twice - which were both largely unpleasant meetings.

This, right here in front of her, is the kind of relationship she wants. It's always been, in truth, and she's now coming to realise Rachel is the only woman she's believed she could achieve it with.

Well.

Jane pinches her leg to get her attention, and Quinn's head snaps up. "You okay?" Jane asks, her expression slightly unreadable.

Quinn nods, smiling. "I'm great," she says, and she really, really means it.

* * *

Quinn and Lex get into Lima quite late.

Late enough that Lex is already asleep in the backseat, looking a little uncomfortable. He has his pillow pressed against the window, but his head is leaning in the opposite direction.

It's adorable.

Quinn drives straight to Rachel's house, suddenly very eager to see her. Normally, she can handle not seeing her, but that's when they're actually in the same place. It's weird, but Quinn is convinced she actually felt the distance between them.

So, she really needs to see Rachel.

And, what happens to her heart when she does is something she wouldn't even be able to put into words. It stops and starts and jumps and slows, and Quinn is glad she's managed to bring the car to a stop before Rachel comes out the front door, Sasha following behind.

Quinn opens her door and closes it as quietly as possible once she's out. There's no use waking Lex this late, and Quinn will admit to wanting a few moments alone with this woman who's stolen her head and heart.

Quinn leans against her car door, watching Rachel's approach with tender eyes. Wow, she's missed her. And Sasha, too, who reaches Quinn first and buzzes about her legs in excitement. Quinn bends to greet her, scratching the backs of her ears and getting a little whine out of her.

"My turn," Rachel says a beat later, and Quinn straightens to give Rachel her full attention.

"Hi," Quinn says.

"Hi."

"We're back."

Rachel reaches out to hold onto her shirt, fisting the fabric and using her grip to pull herself closer. "I can see that," she murmurs as she closes the space between them, wrapping her arms around Quinn's waist and tucking herself into her body.

Quinn's own arms enclose around Rachel's shoulders and her chin rests on top of her head. There's something so beautifully simple about this moment, and she feels her entire body exhale at the feeling of having Rachel so close.

Rachel presses a kiss to her neck. "We missed you," she murmurs.

Quinn hums in response, her eyes closing and her heart rate slowing. "We missed you, too."

Rachel kisses her neck again and again, trailing her lips up over her jaw, her chin, until she finds Quinn's lips, ready and waiting. They both sigh in relief, as if this is the moment they've been waiting for.

And it is. Quinn feels her entire body just relax at being able to hold Rachel; just touch her and feel her. There's just something so simple about being able to be together this way, and Quinn is determined to hold onto it as much as possible.

This woman is someone to whom she wants to come home.

"Are we seeing you tomorrow?" Rachel asks, breaking their kiss and resting her forehead against Quinn's.

Quinn just breathes for a moment. "Why don't you and the boys come over for a barbecue tomorrow?" she suggests. "We can hang out, eat some food, build a fort, make out when the boys aren't looking, all those lovely good things we can do as a family."

Rachel grins at her. "A family, huh?"

Quinn nods, expression serious.

"And you'll tell me all about your trip?"

Quinn nods. "As if you don't already know everything we did, from the endless chain of texts I sent you."

"I want to _hear_ the stories," Rachel says. "From you, and from Lex."

"Oh, he's just bursting to tell you all about the ducks."

Rachel leans to the side to get a glimpse of Quinn's sleeping son, smiling softly and feeling her heart grow in size. "Baby, if you're not careful, he's going to use those puppy dog eyes on you to get himself an actual duck one of these days."

Quinn's eyes widen. "Don't even _put_ that into the universe," she says. "I am way too young for that kind of responsibility."

Rachel's brow creases. "How old _are_ you?"

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Just because we're two women in this relationship, doesn't mean it's suddenly okay to ask that question, you know."

Rachel laughs softly, kissing the underside of her chin. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."

"I don't care how old you are," Quinn says, and she means it.

"Well, I'm turning twenty-eight in December."

Quinn exaggerates a gasp. "Wow, you're _old_."

Rachel pinches her side. "Shut up."

Quinn just laughs, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "It's okay, you old whiskey," she murmurs. "I definitely still like you."

* * *

"I see you missed your backyard, huh?" Quinn says, watching as Sasha runs around on their lawn as if she hasn't seen it in weeks. Really, she lives with such drama queens.

Sasha just barks in response.

Quinn glances up at the bright sun, enjoying some much needed Vitamin D. She's just spent the last hour cleaning the grill for their proposed barbecue, feeling a bit giddy at the idea of the five of them spending the day together.

She would be embarrassed if she could bring herself to care. She _adores_ Rachel and her sons, and she's not going to shy away from it. She's spent far too long suppressing her feelings, and she's ready and willing to make sure Rachel is aware that Quinn _wants this_.

Sasha's bark catches her attention, and she smiles down at her. "Ready to go back inside?" she asks. "Have some water? Possibly catch a nap?"

Sasha actually yawns, and Quinn just laughs as she turns and heads for the back door. Her dog can be such a diva, really.

"Go on in," Quinn says, and Sasha squeezes past her. She closes the door behind Sasha, smiling down at their trusty pup. "It's obvious you missed the backyard, but the important question is did you miss _us_, huh?"

Sasha just lets out a soft bark, which Quinn will definitely take as confirmation. She eventually disappears somewhere into the house, leaving Quinn to head towards the front room. She can't hear where Lex is, but that's normal. He's a slippery little dude.

Quinn's just taken a step into the corridor when she scratches at her right arm with her left hand, pressing her forearm against her own abdomen.

Which is the moment she feels the sting.

She winces, moving her arm away from her body, and seeing a bee fall to the ground, landing at her feet.

"Oh, shit," Quinn suddenly says, staring at her forearm in mild horror, already feeling the anaphylaxis kicking in.

Lex pops out from wherever he's been hiding, his ears ridiculously tuned in to any curse words that may or may not leave her mouth. "Mom," he squeaks. "That word is _three_ dollars."

"Lex," she says as calmly as she possibly can, and he instantly straightens, his expression growing serious. "Get the _EpiPen_," she manages to say, her right hand carefully pinching at the sting sight to remove it from her skin.

Lex's eyes widen, and he takes off immediately.

She's already dizzy, and it takes great effort to stumble her way to the couch, dropping onto it and trying not to panic. She can't help it, though, because her heart rate is rapid and she can't seem to catch her breath. Shit shit shit.

"Mommy!" Lex yells as he runs back into the room, auto-injector in his hand.

Quinn presents her thigh to him, suddenly thankful for her tendency to wear shorts. "Just like I showed you," she mumbles.

Lex takes a breath, shifting the little rod in his small hand. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispers.

"It's okay, baby," she says, putting her hand over his. "We'll do it together."

They do.

It stings, obviously, and she feels the jolt as the epinephrine enters her body, her heart pumping triple-time.

For a moment, its blissful: the relief.

She thinks she smiles, but she loses consciousness a moment later.


	10. X

**X**

Rachel is doing laundry when she gets the call. She still has a few hours before she has to pick up Hugo from Brittany and Santana's house, but there's something about the sound of her phone that sets her on edge.

With Max at her parents' - the boys conveniently separated, she thinks bitterly - she has a full day of chores planned before she and her boys are expected over at Quinn's for a bit of a barbecue.

For a moment, Rachel wonders if Quinn is calling to cancel, which is a thought that's expounded when she spies Quinn's name and picture on her phone's Caller ID.

Still, she's smiling when she answers, "Hello, you," as she drops herself onto the couch, only to get the shock of her life when it's not Quinn on the other end of the line.

"Rachel?"

She sits upright immediately, hearing something a little shaky in Lex's voice. "Lex, hi," she says. "Is everything okay?"

"I think so," he says.

"Did something happen?"

"Mommy was stung by a bee," he says, sounding entirely too calm for the words he's saying. "I think I got the _EpiPen_ to her in time, but she's passed out right now."

Rachel is convinced she hasn't heard correctly. There's no way Lex would be so calm about something like that, right? She's imagining this phone call.

"Rachel?"

She snaps to attention. "Lex?"

"What do I do if she doesn't wake up?"

* * *

Rachel has never driven so fast in her life.

It helps that she and Quinn don't live too far away from each other, but Rachel still breaks every road law in existence. Stop signs? For whom?

She's not entirely sure what she'll be walking into when she gets to Quinn's house, but it's eerily quiet and calm when she pushes open the unlocked front door. "Lex?" she calls out.

"In here," he calls back, and she follows his voice into the front room, finding him sitting hunched over on the coffee table, his eyes trained on Quinn's prone form on the couch.

The scene hits Rachel square in the chest and her steps falter. Lex looks over at her for a beat, and then he's scrambling to his feet and running to her. She braces herself for impact, and lets out a soft _oomph_ when his arms wrap around her.

She gently rubs his back, soothing him. She's not really sure what she's supposed to be doing right now.

"She's just sleeping it off," Rachel finds herself saying, hoping she's right. Right? Fainting is a symptom of anaphylactic shock, right? Quinn will wake up soon, and it'll all just be a thing.

Except, well, Rachel is definitely going to be giving Quinn a piece of her mind. This is not okay. None of this is okay.

"I'm glad you called me," Rachel tells Lex. "Has this happened before?"

"One time," he answers, refusing to break their hug.

Rachel guides them to one of the armchairs, sitting and pulling him into her lap. Her heart is beating rapidly, and she's trying not to stare at Quinn's pale skin. Should they be going to the hospital? Should she be calling for an ambulance? Should she be putting some kind of ointment on the bee sting she can so clearly see blooming on the inside of Quinn's forearm?

Lex snuggles into her body, and she keeps her arms wrapped around him. "It was bad that time," he mumbles. "The _EpiPen_ didn't work the way she sais, and my hand was too small, and she made me call nine-one-one before she passed out."

"But you were on time this time," Rachel states, even though it's more of a question.

"I was," he says, his voice a little clearer. "I was."

"Then it's going to be fine," Rachel assures him, kissing his hair.

"Promise?" he asks, and there's something so heavy in the way he asks this of her.

Rachel audibly swallows, and then says, "I promise, Baby Shark."

* * *

Quinn comes to almost fifteen minutes later, and Rachel is in the makeshift kitchen pouring glasses of juice for all three of them.

"Mommy!" Lex suddenly shrieks, and Rachel abandons her task to race into the front room, her own heart stuttering at the sight of Quinn's open eyes and Lex's clutching onto her.

Quinn startles when she sees her, and then sighs in relief. "You're here," she murmurs, rubbing Lex's back. "Hi."

Rachel takes slow steps towards her. "Lex called me," she says.

"How long have I been out?"

"Maybe half an hour," Rachel answers, her eyes trailing over Quinn's body, assessing it. "How are you feeling?"

Quinn glances down where Lex has buried his face in the crook of her neck, and then up at Rachel. She looks exhausted, and Rachel reads the fact she's not answering as response enough.

Rachel walks towards her, fingers reaching out to touch her face, her hair, _her_. "Hi," she whispers.

Quinn turns her head and kisses Rachel's fingers. _Sorry_, she mouths, only for Rachel to see.

Rachel bends to kiss her forehead. "Do you want some juice?" she asks.

"Coffee, actually," Quinn says. "My, uh, lungs need the caffeine."

Rachel's fingers pinch Quinn's ear, and she yelps.

"What was that for?"

Rachel just shakes her head, and then walks out of the room, needing some space. Jesus. Rachel didn't wake up this morning expecting this rollercoaster of a day. Her... Quinn passed out, and now what else is going to happen?

She spends an obscene amount of time making Quinn's coffee that Quinn actually comes to find her, stumbling a little. She still looks a little pale, but her eyes are focused and there's a white wrap around her forearm.

"Does it hurt?" is the first thing Rachel asks when she sets Quinn's coffee on the dining room table.

"No," Quinn answers, her left eye twitching, and Rachel frowns. "A little."

Rachel steps back.

"Thank you for this," she says, lifting her coffee cup and breathing it in. "Where are the boys?" she asks, taking a sip.

"Hugo's with his godmother, and Max is with my parents," she answers, unable to look at Quinn.

Quinn sighs. "They didn't want both, huh?"

Rachel shrugs. "I figured Hugo shouldn't have to deal with my own drama with my friends, you know," she says. "I mean, we've missed bowling and our monthly dinner already, and I haven't even confirmed that Finn and I are never ever going to be speaking again."

Quinn leans against the dining room table. "I'm sorry," she says.

"The fact I can't bring myself to talk to my friends isn't your fault, Quinn," she says.

"That's not what I'm apologising for," Quinn says.

"Oh." Rachel finally looks at her. "Are we talking about this?"

Quinn shrugs. "I get the feeling there are things you'd like to say to me."

"That's a given," Rachel says, tense.

Quinn runs a hand through her hair, hesitant. "Look, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your coming - "

"Shut up," Rachel suddenly says, not even willing to listen to whatever Quinn thinks she needs to say in this moment. "Just shut up."

Quinn says nothing, just watching as Rachel wrings her fingers in front of her.

"You are an idiot," Rachel says. "You need to be more careful, dammit. You _know_ you're allergic to bees, and you were what, huh, what the hell were you even doing?"

Quinn opens her mouth, as if to reply, but Rachel keeps her quiet with a sharp look.

"What is wrong with you?" Rachel asks. "Why would - you have to pay better attention. It's just you and Lex here. What if - God, what if something worse happened, huh? What then? You can prepare Lex all you want, but - but - did you - did you _see_ what you looked like? He asked me what happens if you don't wake up, Quinn! What - what do I even say to that? I don't know. I don't know what happens if you're - I can't even - "

Quinn closes the space between them and pulls her into a tight hug, holding her as she works through her emotions. There are tears in her eyes that she's determined not to let fall.

"Don't do that to me again," Rachel forces out, her face pressed against Quinn's chest. "Don't you dare."

Quinn doesn't speak, and Rachel thinks it's the smartest thing she's ever done. Rachel just keeps ahold of her, her fists clutching Quinn's shirt.

This is the moment Rachel is certain she's in love with Quinn. She's known, sure; even felt it growing for quite some time, but this is the moment she knows for sure this is the woman she's likely going to love for a very long time.

Possibly even forever.

Rachel's terrified she's going to end up saying the words, so she kisses Quinn instead. It's a searching kiss, passionate in its own way. She pushes at Quinn, forcing her back until she hits the wall, hearing her let out a soft sound of complaint.

Which quickly turns into a moan when Rachel licks into her mouth and touches her front with such confidence.

"God, yes," Quinn breathes the moment Rachel's hands slide under her shirt, fingers cool on her skin.

"Baby," Rachel breathes. "I want - "

"What?" Quinn asks, panting. "What do you - "

They both startle at the sound Quinn's phone ringing somewhere in the front room. It's maybe a blessing, because just what were they about to do?

"I should - uh - " Quinn says, pointing somewhere over her shoulder. "I'll be - "

Rachel lets her go, taking a moment to compose herself, but startling when she hears Quinn says, "Hugo, what's wrong?" from the other room.

Rachel rushes into the room, her eyes wide. Quinn turns towards her then, looking confused.

"Hold on, Bud," she says. "Here's your mom."

Rachel takes the phone the moment Quinn hands it to her, heart pounding and stomach churning. "Hugo," she says, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Mommy," he croaks, his voice cracking.

"Baby, what is it?"

"Mommy," Hugo says again, his voice a little tinny now. "Can you please come get me?"

Rachel blinks once, twice, and then straightens her spine. "Sure, Honey," she says. "Is everything okay?"

He sniffles. "Please can you just come get me."

"Okay, baby, I'm coming," she says. "Mommy's coming."

Quinn is looking at her with concern when Rachel drops the phone. "What's wrong?" she asks.

"He wants me to fetch him," she says, frowning. "I don't know - "

"You should go," Quinn says.

Rachel nods. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going," she says. "I - um, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Quinn says, stepping into her space. "We're fine here. Take a breath, go fetch your kid, and your other kid, and then come back here, okay?"

Rachel just keeps nodding.

Quinn kisses her forehead. "I would fetch Maxi myself, but I don't think I should be driving right now."

Rachel takes a deep breath. "It sounded like he was crying," she whispers.

"Maybe he was," Quinn says; "but he's strong, and he called, and now you have to go and pick him up."

"I - I think I might be about to break up with my best friend," she says.

Quinn sighs. "Baby, it doesn't have to be that dramatic, okay? _I'm_ the thorn in their side. It's their fault for bringing your son into it."

Rachel takes another deep breath. "Okay," she says. "Okay."

And, then, for the second time in what was supposed to be a lazy day, Rachel breaks all the road rules, her panic somewhere locked away as she forces herself to focus.

Santana and Brittany live a little further away, and Rachel sometimes hates making the drive. She did absolutely no driving in New York, so it's not her favourite thing in the world. Unlike Quinn, who seemingly loves being behind the wheel.

Rachel gets to the house twelve minutes later, pulling into the driveway and unsure how to feel about the situation she's surely about to walk into. She's managed to put whatever disjoint she's currently having with her best friends aside to allow her son to spend time with his godmother, and now Hugo is in tears.

Rachel is not okay with that.

Brittany's the one to answer the door when Rachel rings the doorbell, a look of surprise on her face. "Rachel?" she squeaks, looking genuinely surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Hugo?" Rachel immediately asks, ignoring her question.

"Uh, is everything okay?"

"Where is he?" she asks again.

"Santana took him for ice-cream," Brittany finally says. "Now, do you want to tell me what's got you so worked up?"

Rachel feels ice cold. "How long ago was this?"

"About forty-five minutes," Brittany answers. "Why? What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_ is my baby boy just called me in tears and asked me to pick him up," she snaps. "Call Santana. Get her to bring him back."

Brittany's facial expression shifts. "I told her not to bring it up."

"Bring what up?"

Brittany sighs heavily as she steps back, turns and disappears into the house. Rachel's petulance and stubbornness keeps her standing at the door. Her friends feel like strangers to her, as if she's been wearing a pair of certain-coloured glasses to see all the good things and ignore the bad.

The bad.

She didn't even realise there was anything manipulative or degrading about having friends who seem so intent on pointing out her failures until Quinn took up position in her corner and told her she's actually been doing great, given the circumstances.

So, here she is, now, trying to figure out the best way to deal with this situation. It's comforting just knowing Quinn is waiting for her, ready to help her deal with whatever aftermath they'll be faced with once Hugo is back in her charge. She feels silly for thinking Santana wouldn't do something like this.

Of course, she would. She's a woman who's very good at holding a grudge, and Rachel doesn't even think informing her about their romantic relationship would change her opinions on Quinn.

That isn't even Rachel's job.

Rachel plonks herself on the front steps to wait, fidgeting nervously as she waits for Hugo. She's tempted to text Quinn an update or just to get some extra moral support, but Brittany comes back to the door before she can.

"They're already on their way back," the blonde says, and Rachel isn't sure how to feel about this particular woman in this moment.

"What did Santana say to my son?" she asks, needing to be prepared for the upcoming situation.

"I'm not entirely sure," Brittany explains, standing just behind where Rachel remains seated. "But, Noah was here for dinner last night and he was ranting quite incessantly about a bit of trouble he's run into regarding Quinn and their contract that may or may not be putting his license to operate in jeopardy."

Rachel turns her head to look at her. "I don't know what that has to do with my son."

"Hugo mentioned you've been spending time with Quinn," Brittany says, her voice infuriatingly airy.

"I'm still not seeing the connection."

"You've been spending time with someone who isn't San," Brittany says. "She's convinced you're replacing her, and she doesn't handle those feelings very well."

"We're almost thirty years old, Brittany," Rachel says, frowning. "And, seriously, you still haven't told me what any of this has to do with Hugo."

Brittany sighs. "You're not the only one who's replacing her."

Okay.

Rachel can perhaps sympathise with that, because she knows she also went a little crazy when Hugo seemed to be more interested in talking to Quinn than talking to her. It was hard. It still is, sometimes, but she's come to enjoy it. Quinn is someone Hugo trusts to keep him safe and protect him. Why wouldn't Rachel want that for her son?

The manifestation of Rachel's confusion regarding her own feelings for Quinn resulted in a blowup with _Quinn_. She made a point not to drag Hugo into it, and _there_ is the difference between her and Santana. Between Quinn and Santana.

The sound of tyres on the driveway catches her attention, and she gets to her feet at the sight of Santana's car pulling in. She can see Hugo sitting sullenly in the backseat, his arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed, and her heart cracks at the sight.

Rachel looks at Brittany. "It's not good enough," she says, and then takes off towards the car, reaching it just as it comes to a complete stop. She opens the door for Hugo, watching as he unbuckles his seatbelt and almost falls out of the car. He's hugging her a beat later, arms tight around her waist, and she smooths a hand over his hair.

"You came," he mumbles.

"Of course, Sweetheart," she assures him, holding him just that bit longer, and then hands him her car keys. "Can you go wait in the car for me?" she asks. "Then we'll go get Max and head to Quinn's, okay?"

Hugo hesitates for a moment.

"I'm right behind you," Rachel assures him. "I won't be long, I promise."

Hugo holds on for only a moment more, and then he's turning and walking towards her car that's parked in front of the house, ready and waiting to take them as far away from this place as Rachel knows they need to be.

Rachel waits until he's completely out of earshot before she even looks at Santana, who is now standing at her door, her expression unreadable.

"I didn't think he would actually call you," Santana says, and Rachel's eyes narrow, because that's _really_ not the line she wants to be leading with right now.

"He didn't," Rachel says, which is the truth. "He called Quinn."

Santana's facial expression shifts into something resembling a scowl. "What has that woman done to him?" she asks, her tone harsh. "You have to stop letting him spend time with her, Rachel. You saw how he acted after their first meeting. She's obviously poisoning him against us."

Rachel feels indignant on Quinn's behalf, angry and affronted. Santana doesn't even _know_ her. She's just made all these judgments about her based on _nothing_, and Rachel is sick and tired of Santana telling her what to do when the way she parents her sons has nothing to do with the Latina.

Santana stares at her with wide eyes when Rachel ends up saying those exact words out loud. It really has very little to do with _Quinn_ in this moment, because Santana has undermined her parenting countless times, and the fact she's made Hugo cry in the process this time is the final straw.

"I know why now, but I accepted it all whenever you talked badly about Brody and Finn, and even that one guy I deigned to date in New York, Robert, but - but this ends now. It's not going to happen with Quinn, and it's definitely not going to happen in front of Hugo."

Santana glares at her. "I don't even get what the big deal is," she says, looking genuinely confused. "It's not as if you're dating her." Then she laughs, as if it's the most preposterous thing in the world.

Rachel doesn't fully react. "That shouldn't matter," she says, because she's definitely not outing herself right now. Out of everyone she needs to know about her new relationship, Hugo is the priority. "Quinn is important to me, and to Hugo, so you need to stop." She pauses. "Dammit, Santana, you made him _cry_."

Santana seems to sober at the reminder. "It wasn't intentional," she says, her voice low. "I just - I don't understand what he sees in her."

And maybe Rachel is being selfish in this moment. A coward, perhaps, because what Hugo sees in Quinn is someone who will protect him, in a way Santana hasn't, and Rachel can't bring herself to _tell_ her that Finn is an asshole who's laid some kind of hand on her sons and made them feel _small_.

Rachel can't tell if she's withholding to protect Finn, or to protect herself. Because, regardless of what Quinn says, Rachel chose Finn, and she would just be proving all her friends right that she can't be trusted to make those kind of decisions when it comes to her sons and her partners.

No.

Okay.

She needs to get out of here.

Rachel clears her throat, suddenly needing to see Quinn in this moment. Right now. "I don't care if it was intentional or not," she finally says, eyes hard. "Whatever you said made my son cry, for God's sake. Is that the person you want to be to him? Because, regardless of your thoughts about Quinn, if you can't control yourself around him, you won't see him."

Santana's demeanour shifts, turning hostile. "Oh, I see," she says entirely too calmly, and Rachel must have touched a nerve. "You'd let him hang out with a bloody kidnapper, but keep him away from me, huh?"

Rachel sighs. "Do you think that's what I _want_ to do?" she asks, rhetorical and exhausted. "And Quinn isn't a fucking kidnapper. Which you would know if you would just - "

"No," Santana says, firm. "No fucking way."

Rachel shakes her head. "Then, fine, be on the outs with your godson because you're too damn stubborn to _try_ to get to know this person who's become important to him." There's maybe more she wants to say, but she's not sure she can get it all out and have it actually make sense.

She steps back. "Get it together, Santana," she says rather pointedly. "Because, at this point, whatever decision _I_ make regarding you and Hugo is moot. I won't force him to spend time with you if he doesn't want to."

Santana's jaw clenches. "Oh, so, what, now you're just down another babysitter, huh? Without us, and Puck and Finn apparently on the outs as well, who do you have left, huh?"

_Quinn_, Rachel's mouth wants to say, but there's an odd wave of emotion that settles over her before she can get the word out. It feels heavy and oddly isolating, because, really, who does she have left? Is it wise to be alienating all the people she's relied on in the past?

She's been forced to rely on.

She's believed she _had_ to.

Is Quinn just becoming someone falling into that category? Is - is it worth it to swap all her friends out for one person, if that is even what she's doing?

One person, whom she's just now accepted that she _loves_. Wants to be with in all those terrifying, wonderful ways. One person, who makes the last few years seem worth it. One person, whose mere existence has altered the entire makeup of her life.

The answer is pretty simple.

Rachel straightens her spine and squares her shoulders. There are other words to say, but she's not willing to say them. Not today. Maybe not ever.

So, she just turns around and walks away. She can hear Santana let out a huff and grumble something under her breath, but Rachel keeps walking. Towards Hugo and Quinn, and away from Santana.

Well.

Hugo is sitting dutifully in the backseat, his eyes glued to her as she walks towards him. She smiles as assuredly as she can, and he seems to relax at the sight of it. At least.

She doesn't feel at all calm, though, as she gets to the car and finds her keys on her seat. She smiles softly as she gets in and settles, her hand turning the ignition. Her heart is still racing when she finally pulls away from the curb, and it steadily slows the further they get from Santana and Brittany.

The closer they get to Quinn.

She glances at Hugo in the rearview mirror, taking in his sullen expression and red eyes. Her baby. Gosh. This has been quite the summer, hasn't it?

"Hugo," she says, getting his attention. "Sweetheart, do you want to talk about it?"

Hugo turns his head to look at her, blinking a few times. "Not really," he says, and his voice sounds small enough that it suddenly matches his body.

"Are you sure?"

He nods. Then: "Why were you with Quinn?"

She tenses. "Excuse me?"

"I called _Quinn_," he points out. "You were with her."

"Right," she breathes, unsure if he'll react badly to the idea of them being together without him. "Uh, well, Quinn was actually stung by a bee," she explains. "She's allergic."

Hugo straightens instantly, his eyes widening in panic. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," she assures him. "Lex was just a little shook up, so you'll have to be extra nice to him today."

"I'm always nice," he pouts.

"I know you are, baby," she says, smiling at his indignant expression.

Hugo falls silent, his expression shifting into something thoughtful. "Mommy," he eventually says.

"Yes, Hugo?"

"You came," he says.

Rachel's brow furrows, because that's the second time he's said that. "Of course, I did."

Hugo says nothing more about it, and Rachel is left to wonder why she suddenly feels as if she's passed some unseen test. She's felt as if she's been failing him for so long that this new emotion is unexpected, but still welcomed.

She's going to give him an extra tight hug when they get out of the car. And pepper his face with kisses until he's squirming. Yip. Exactly that.

Rachel first stops off at home to move her laundry she left in the washer over to the dryer, because she basically tore out of here without a second thought earlier. She also needs to lock up properly, if they're going to be out of the house until much later.

She texts her fathers that she's going to be picking up Max earlier than initially planned, and then packs an extra set of clothes for herself and Hugo, Max already always kitted out with his diaper bag. Hugo packs some DVDs, extra pyjamas and the clothes from Lex he's borrowed in the past.

Eventually, they're ready to go, and Rachel drives them straight to her parents' house. It's intended to be a short visit, but, apparently, nothing is sacred and Santana and Brittany have since informed her fathers of the particularly hairy situation in which they all find themselves.

Hugo takes one look at their faces, sighs so heavily that it's a surprise he doesn't actually deflate, and then stalks into the living room to watch television with Max _while the adults talk_. For some reason, the entire sequence of actions reminds her of Quinn, which is all kinds of weird, but still so, so lovely.

Hiram leads her into the kitchen where the three of them take a seat at the table. She's a little antsy to get back to Quinn, and a lot annoyed at Santana for trying to use her own fathers against her. That's just low and entirely unnecessary.

But oddly expected.

"Sweetheart," Hiram starts; "just what is going on?"

Rachel says nothing, turning over a possible response in her head.

"Should we be concerned about Santana's worries regarding Quinn?" LeRoy ventures.

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "And what worries does Santana have about Quinn, huh?" she asks. "Because, honestly, I don't know where she gets off having 'concerns' when she hasn't even _met_ her before."

They both just stare at her.

"You have," she points out. "And, from what you've seen of her already, do you have your own concerns?"

"No."

"Then, I don't see what the problem is," she says. "I _like_ her, okay? I like her a lot, and I haven't been able to _tell_ anyone about it, so I just need you, as _my parents,_ to accept that I know what I'm doing when it comes to Quinn." She pauses. "I'm well aware that I've had a spotty dating history, thank you very much, so I really don't need anyone else to point it out, but this is different. _She_ is different, and, yes, I'm still trying to wrap my head around a lot of things when it comes to being with her, so can everybody please just _let me_?"

The silence that follows is long and slightly uncomfortable.

Rachel sits, her mind on Quinn and the repeated words of _whenever you're ready_. She's the only person who seems to be patient enough with Rachel, and that means something.

It means everything.

LeRoy eventually clears his throat and says, "Okay, Honey."

She sighs in relief.

"I think… we should definitely have them over for a barbecue one of these days," Hiram suggests, already looking as if he's planning the entire thing. "We can get to know her properly."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You just want to interrogate her."

Hiram exaggerates a gasp. "I resent that accusation," he says. "I don't think it's wildly out of the ordinary for a father to want to be familiar with his daughter's significant other."

"Oh, my God."

Hiram beams at her. "This is exciting, Rachel," he says. "This is someone you're dating whom we can actually stand."

Rachel winces, because there it is again: the casual way her dating choices are spoken about, right in front of her. She can almost guess the way they go on when she's not around; all her choices a free-for-all topic of discussion among her friends and fathers.

Well.

"Sure, Dad," she says. "I'll talk to her about it."

It takes another few minutes, but she's finally able to get her sons and leave. She's not entirely sure what she's feeling, but there's _a lot_ of relief in finally pulling into Quinn's driveway and seeing her open the front door for them.

Hugo goes running, and Rachel suspects both Lex and Hugo are going to be a little Quinn-focused today. At least she's looking less pale, her mouth pulled into a smile and her eyes a little brighter.

Wow.

Rachel is so, so in love.

Which is just multiplied as she approaches the front door behind Hugo with Max in tow and hears Quinn say, "Hey, Kid," as she draws him into a brief hug. "You okay?"

Hugo nods, pressing his face into her abdomen.

Quinn bends to kiss the top of his head. "You did good, you know?"

Hugo looks up at her, frowning in confusion. "I did?"

"You memorised my number."

The grin Hugo aims at her is blinding, and Rachel is reminded why all her answers have been so simple.

* * *

Quinn's working a grill is something Rachel didn't even know she needed in her life until it's right in front of her. There's a certain confidence about her, the way she flips patties and chars corn on the cob. She's smiling and present and making a little game of keeping Max away from the heated metal.

Rachel sits on the deck and watches her family.

_Her family._

Lex and Hugo are on the lawn with Sasha, the three of them marvelling at the few fireflies they can see and looking up at the emerging stars in the dusk light.

This is her life. This is what Rachel gets now: these people whom she gets to love with all her heart. She wouldn't exchange them for anything, and she sure as hell won't allow people to make her second-guess this family she's found.

She loves them. Adores them with every fibre of her being. She wants nothing more than this existence. Nothing about Lima has felt like enough, but this comes close.

She still has decisions to make about her career, but she's able and willing to put it all off while she enjoys the rest of the summer months. When the time comes, she'll make the right choice. Because she _does_ have Quinn, and that is very important.

"Hey, Raspberry," Quinn suddenly calls out; "think you can distract your son before he ends up burning his fingers, and I can finish up here?"

Rachel smiles to herself as she gets to her feet and crosses over to where Max is being a giggling fiend. She's sorely tempted to kiss Quinn's cheek, but she resists and rather plants one on Max when she scoops him up.

She'll kiss Quinn later.

* * *

Later.

When the boys have fallen asleep watching _Cars_ in the living room, and the two of them have escaped to the backyard the way they did the first evening they ever spent together. This time, though, they share the swing, sitting indecently close to each other.

They're talking, because Rachel has never felt more comfortable with anyone else just being able to do so. Quinn is always present, making sure to _hear_ her, and Rachel appreciates every moment of it.

"I guess I'm sorry my friends seem to hate you," Rachel says, glancing away. "You haven't even done anything."

Quinn sighs, leaning back slightly and using her legs to move them steadily. "I'm pretty sure they wouldn't agree with you."

"You saved my boys from Finn," she says; "and you're just holding your ground against Noah. You've done _nothing_ wrong."

Quinn takes hold of her right hand, loosely linking their fingers. "Maybe this doesn't particularly bode well for our future, but you should know that I honestly don't give a shit what your friends think of me."

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh. "Quinn," she snorts.

"I'm serious," Quinn says, undeterred. "I care only about you, and your sons. And probably your parents, I guess. But mainly you and your boys. That's it."

Rachel turns her head to look at her, expression serious. "We can't be your every part of Lima," she says.

"No, you can't," Quinn agrees. "But you're always going to be the most important."

Rachel kisses her, just once.

"I can make more friends," Quinn says. "Other, different friends. None of that even matters to me, because it's not a priority the way you and the boys are."

Rachel sighs a little dreamily. "It amazes me, sometimes, just how put together you are."

Quinn shakes her head. "I wish you wouldn't think that about me, because I'm definitely not," she says, squeezing Rachel's fingers. "I'm a work in progress, just like the rest of the world. I just - I've had more time being this person I get to be than you've had to be this you, and that's all it is. That's all."

Rachel kisses her again, her right hand cupping the back of her neck and her fingers playing with the little hairs she finds there. Quinn moans into her mouth, their lips sliding together so deliciously that Rachel wants to crawl into her lap and live there, so she attempts to.

She's just straddled Quinn's legs when Quinn pulls back quite suddenly and says, "I need you to know something." Her hands slide over Rachel's back. "Baby, I need you to know."

"What?" she asks, a little breathless. "God, what?"

"I want you," Quinn says. "I _want_ you."

Rachel blinks, so caught off guard by the vehemence in her voice. "What?"

Quinn breathes out. "This isn't some fling for me," she says. "Believe me, I've had them, but this isn't that. It's more than that."

"It's more than that," she echoes, a little bewildered.

Quinn leans back against the swing's cushions and looks as if she's trying to put her thoughts into words. "I don't know if this is something you need to hear, but I still need to say this to you, okay?"

Rachel holds Quinn's head in her hands, keeping her eyes focused on Quinn's. "I'm listening," she says, because this seems important to Quinn.

"We've never really spoken about _my_ relationships," she says. "I don't really count anything from before Baby was born, because I was a right mess for a lot of that time. There were insignificant boys that my parents expected me to date, so I did. It was only in college when I was away from them that I could really… explore… whatever I spent years fighting against."

Rachel sits perfectly still, listening intently.

"When I met Patrick, I wasn't quite ready to accept that I liked girls," Quinn explains "I mean, I had an idea, but I hid from it by starting something else considered taboo. He was older and charming and… my professor."

Rachel's eyes widen slightly, but she says nothing.

"It was intense and went on for only ten weeks," Quinn says. "I knew it wouldn't last. It was just one of those things I did in reaction to… not wanting to be gay, I guess." She sighs. "When I found out I was pregnant, it was one of those moments when you're convinced the Universe is just saying one monumental _fuck you_, and it was _so much worse_ when I worked up the courage to tell him.

"I can't tell you what I was expecting, but he went into a full panic, and started talking about his wife, and I've never - I've literally never felt so - so…" she trails off, and Rachel suddenly feels sick. "I can't even explain it," Quinn eventually says.

The silence that stretches between them is heavy, and Rachel drops her gaze, unable to maintain eye contact.

"I felt so dirty," Quinn says. "I understood it was an affair we had to keep hidden, because he was a professor and I was a student, but I never allowed myself to think the reason he made sure it was all such a secret was because we were hiding from his _wife_. It was so…" she trails off again. "I've been used by people before, but there was something so deeply traumatic about realising I was the other woman, and that I didn't even know it. It didn't matter that I didn't love him - which, in hindsight, would have been so much worse - but it hurt all the same. To know he'd known _just_ how wrong it all was and still - "

Rachel closes her eyes, and wraps her arms around Quinn's neck, hugging her close.

"It all fell apart quite quickly after that," Quinn mumbles against Rachel's collarbone. "He wanted nothing to do with me or the baby, so we had a lawyer draw up the necessary documents to ensure Baby Shark would be mine and mine alone. I didn't want anything to do with him, either. I didn't want his hush money or his guilt. I mean, the bastard even wanted me to put in a clause that I wouldn't ever tell his wife." She growls low in her chest, and Rachel just holds her tighter.

Quinn eventually sighs, her body relaxing slightly. "He was a fling, and, fuck, flings can hurt," she says. "_You_ are not a fling. I know this is going to last. I want it to, and I've never wanted anything as much as I want this. I want _you_."

Rachel would ask about _after_ Lex was born, but she thinks that might be a conversation for another night.

When Quinn isn't this emotional.

And Rachel isn't this conflicted.

* * *

Rachel lies awake for hours.

She feels awful and guilty, and she just knows this is all going to blow up in her face. The thing she clings to is that she didn't lie. She just didn't offer up unimportant information.

And it _is_ unimportant.

Her relationship with Brody is over. It's been over for more than a year now. Longer maybe, because she's sure they really started falling apart when she told him she was pregnant with Max. A lot of their relationship was obligation, sure, and Rachel has always felt it was her responsibility to her children to make it work with their father.

Until she just didn't.

Selfishly, she put herself first, ended things and moved back to Lima. Brody had little to say to that, letting her leave with little fanfare, so long as he got to live in the apartment she purchased with her first royalties.

An apartment he's apparently moving out of. An apartment he thinks he has the right to sell. He's in for the shock of his life when she finally figures out a time to get out to New York and inform him just what he deserves.

Well, he's in for more than that, because he's being putting off a hell of a lot for far too long, and now Rachel has legitimate reasons to force him into action. Her sons are finally getting some kind of stability, and she finally has somebody like Quinn in her life, who is all kinds of perfect that Rachel can't imagine being with anyone else.

Rachel can't sleep. Not like this. She reaches for her phone, acknowledges it's as late as it is, but still drafts and sends a very particular email to her lawyer.

It's time.

It's been time for a long, long while now.

* * *

_You mentioned paintball? Is that something you're still interested in_?

Obviously, they can't take Max on such an adventure, which is why Rachel organises with Marley for her to babysit. The teenager's been a casual babysitter for her, more so during the school year, given her full-time job at the diner during the summer months.

Max adores her, and Rachel is rather fond of her, as well. She's good with children, always so intent on singing to them, which makes Rachel inexplicably happy, because it would break her heart if her kids ended up not liking music.

Rachel also gets the feeling Marley knows what's really going on between her and Quinn, and there's a certain comfort she finds in that information. She trusts Marley, which is half the battle already.

Finding people to trust with her children hasn't been easy, and, after the debacle that was everything involving Finn Hudson, Rachel thinks she's going to have to be extra careful.

So, Marley comes over to her house, ready to spend the afternoon with just Max, and it takes Rachel until Quinn and Lex arrive to pick up her and Hugo to settle enough to be comfortable enough with leaving.

It's okay.

Everything's going to be okay.

Quinn's relaxed demeanour and the boys' excitement all help her settle even further, and the four of them sing along to the radio at the tops of their lungs as Quinn drives them to the paintball arena situated just outside the town limits.

Rachel doesn't really expect to enjoy herself, but it's difficult not to when Quinn, Lex and Hugo seem to have the time of their lives. The entire thing is just wild, really. They get kitted out with protective gear, and Quinn even paints their cheeks with black stripes to make them look like warriors.

The way she is with them makes Rachel swoon _all the damn time_, and she takes about a hundred pictures of her crazy little family tripping over each other and rolling in the leaves and hay.

She's always the first one to get hit, and Quinn gives her an unimpressed look the fourth time it happens.

"I like watching," she says, all innocence. "Especially you. Your ass looks especially wonderful in those shorts."

And… Quinn blushes, huffs out a breath and stalks away.

Rachel might have won this little round, but Quinn definitely makes her pay for it later. She's entirely too good at the teasing thing, and they're both suitably worked up by the time Quinn declares it's time she and a knocked-out Lex head home.

Rachel almost asks her to stay. It's a growing feeling she's been trying to curb, because that's forward, isn't it? Quinn can't very well spend the night when Hugo doesn't even know the truth of their relationship. Where would Quinn even sleep?

_Would_ they even sleep?

Rachel flushes at the mere idea of that, gathering a few of Lex's things while Quinn gets him set up in her car. There's something just so wonderfully domestic about their lives, and she's determined to hold onto it as much as possible.

Once she's got Lex's little backpack ready to go, she heads to the front door, ready to go outside, but Quinn is suddenly there in her doorway and looking a little nervous.

"Everything okay?" Rachel asks.

Quinn nods. "Is everything okay with _you_?"

"Of course."

Quinn licks her lips. "Look, I just want to check and make sure you're comfortable with…" she trails off, unable to put her worries into words.

Rachel does it for her. "With your making sure I'm aware you want to have sex with me."

Quinn's eyes widen. "I wouldn't exactly put it that way, but something like that, yes."

"I am," Rachel informs her. "I'm very comfortable with that."

Quinn breathes out in something like relief. "Okay. Yeah, okay, good."

Rachel hands over the backpack, and Quinn slides it over her one shoulder.

"You don't have to come out," Quinn says, and then blanches at the sound of her own words. "I mean, _outside_. You don't have to come outside."

"I know what you meant, Quinn," she says with a laugh.

Quinn shakes her head, embarrassed. "I do mean the other thing, too," she says anyway. "Just so you know."

"Thank you," she says, and, though she's felt no pressure from Quinn, it's still nice to hear. "Whenever I'm ready, right?"

"Right."

They stare at each other for a long, long moment.

Quinn breaks first, glancing behind her to make sure Lex is still safely tucked away in the car, before invading Rachel's space. She barely gives her a moment to adjust before she's kissing her hard, one hand on her hip and the other squeezing her ass rather firmly.

The moan Rachel releases is inevitable and unstoppable.

Quinn licks into her mouth, breathing through her nose, and Rachel fists her shirt in her hands, never wanting this to end.

But, as abruptly as it starts, it's over. Quinn releases her quite suddenly and takes a step back, her breathing laboured.

"Fuck," Quinn murmurs. "You're going to be the death of me."

Before Rachel can say anything, Quinn swoops in to kiss her again, sweetly this time, and Rachel wants her for forever. This kiss is everything, she decides, because it feels as if this is Quinn giving her everything.

"I should go," Quinn says, sounding reluctant.

"I wish you wouldn't."

Quinn chuckles softly. "I'll text you when we get home, okay?"

"Okay."

One last peck, and then Quinn is gone, slipping out the door and rushing to her car. Rachel watches her go, smiling fondly and waving back when Quinn raises a hand one last time.

When they're out of sight, Rachel closes the door and locks it, sighing dreamily. She's happy and feeling emotions that should overwhelm her, but they don't. She turns, then, mentally tallying what needs to be done before bed.

Rachel gets the shock of her life to find Hugo standing there, a glass of water in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face. She doesn't even know what to say to him.

She knows he's seen, or heard, or something. There's no doubt about it. So she just stands there and waits for him to say or do something, which is torture.

When he finally moves, it surprises her. He sets his glass on the table, and then rushes towards her, arms spread, and hugs her so tightly that she actually groans.

"Thank you," he says, his voice muffled against her abdomen. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Rachel isn't sure exactly what she's being thanked for, but she'll take it.

Thank you, indeed.


	11. XI

**AN**: It is now officially Valentine's Day in my time zone, so here's some family fluff (and a side of faberry drama) to celebrate/distract from/get through the day. I hope you all have a great day, regardless. It _is_ Friday.

* * *

**XI**

_Hugo knows_.

Quinn gets no insight into what Rachel feels about that truth from that message alone, but she's assuming it didn't go as terribly as Rachel thought, or Quinn would have received a panicked phone call in the middle of the night. Quinn has so many questions about _how_ he knows, but she forces herself to ask what's most important.

_Is he okay? Are you?_

_He thanked me._

_Huh?_

_Exactly my response. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I'm going to talk to him about it some more today. See where his head's at._

_And yours?_

_Mine?_

_YOUR head. Are you okay_?

There's a long wait for a reply, and Quinn rolls over in bed, listening for any signs that Lex or Sasha are moving about. It's not exactly early, and her little one is usually up and about already.

With a heavy sigh, she rolls herself out of bed and prepares to face the day. She's oddly exhausted, which is strange, because she's sure she got at least seven hours of sleep. There's a part of her, she knows, that wishes she weren't having a text conversation with Rachel, but rather talking to her face-to-face. She wants to be able to touch her and feel her warmth.

Quinn _wants_.

When she finally leaves her room, she finds Lex lying on his stomach on his bedroom floor and sketching on a spread of white sheets of paper. Sasha is laying beside him, her eyes barely open, and Quinn's heart melts at the sight of them.

"Hey, Kiddo," she greets.

His head snaps up. "Morning, Mom," he mumbles through an unexpected yawn.

"You been up long?"

He shakes his head, shifting into a seated position. "I had a dream, Mom," he says. "We were at the park with the ducks and I was feeding them."

She almost rolls her eyes. "Oh, really?"

He nods eagerly. "You always tell me it's your job to make my dreams come true."

Quinn laughs. "You're too smart for your own good, did you know that?"

"I did."

She blows him a kiss. "Come on, let's get some breakfast and you can keep trying to convince me to leave my air-conditioned house just so you can feed birds."

Lex scrambles to his feet. "Mommy," he says, his eyes doing that puppy-dog thing that makes her weak. "The ducks are so cute."

Quinn sighs, already knowing she's going to be venturing out. "Breakfast," she grumbles, and he just knows he's won. She realises she's going to have to develop more of a tolerance to it, but she'll give him ducks.

It's all he can talk about as they have cereal for breakfast, Quinn quietly promising they can grab lunch at Rose's before they head to the park.

It's only after she's done the dishes that she checks her phone again, finding texts from Louisa and Rachel, and a handful of emails from Lindsey.

Rachel first, of course.

_I think I'm relieved_, the text says. _I was so worried he wouldn't approve. He's never known me with anyone but men, which wasn't even what I was most worried about, if I'm being honest. It's the fact it's you, because it's obvious he loves you, and I've been worried that our starting a relationship would align us differently. I didn't want to be accused of stealing you from him_.

Quinn thinks there's more Rachel wants to say, but it's perhaps a conversation to have when they're in the same place, which is why Quinn decides it's best to lighten the mood.

_Well, there's more than enough of me to share, so neither of you have to worry._

_That's reassuring. Also, you're an idiot._

_If you want to spend some alone time with H today, just say the word and L and I can come get Little Bug and take him to the park with us. I've been guilted into going to feed the ducks._

_Would you really do that?_

_Of course._

_I still can't believe you actually exist_.

Quinn smiles a little as she sighs, wishing Rachel could have had better experiences so she wouldn't believe that Quinn is anything special. Quinn doesn't think she is, anyway. This is just how she is in a relationship. That's it.

_Well, I do_, she texts back. _What time should we pick him up?_

_Whenever you want_.

Quinn checks the time on her phone.

_I promised Lionel some Rose's for lunch, so maybe after?_

_Sounds perfect. Can't wait to see you._

_Ditto, Cherry_.

* * *

Rachel surprises her with a kiss to the cheek as soon as she steps out of her car a few hours later. An automatic smile spreads across her face, and she's aware she's acting like a lovestruck fool.

The girl she likes is showing her she likes her back. It's everything.

Hugo is practically bouncing behind Rachel, his smile so wide Quinn's convinced it has to hurt. As soon as Rachel has moved on to hug Lex, Hugo rushes at her, almost winding her.

Quinn puffs out a breath, a hand on his head. "Well, hello to you, too."

Hugo just squeezes her tighter, and Quinn glances at Rachel, who looks equally bemused. Of all the reactions Quinn expected from Hugo, this isn't it.

Anyway.

She's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, because he could have reacted entirely differently to the very idea they're in a relationship.

Hugo eventually lets her go, and Quinn looks around for Max, who is just stumbling out the front door, determined to make it on his own.

"He howled like a banshee when I tried to pick him up," Rachel says, looking amused. "I told him Quinn's coming to get him, and _that's_ what you get."

Quinn can't stop her grin, and she takes off towards her little guy, hearing him shriek in excitement when he recognises her. She swoops down to lift him into her arms, delighting in his pure joy. She holds him above her head, flying him through the air.

"So, I hear you're spending the afternoon with us, huh, Bug?"

His hands automatically reach for her, and Quinn is so in love with this baby boy. She doesn't think she could stand a life without him, and she's trying not to think about if it would ever have to be a possibility.

Nope.

Quinn walks back to where her car is parked in the driveway, Rachel and the boys hovering. She moves to the backseat, opening the door, and then freezes. "Damn," she says under her breath.

Rachel appears at her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Car seat," she says, frowning slightly.

"Easy fix," Rachel says, taking her own car keys out of the back pocket of her jeans. "Take my car, and I'll take yours."

Quinn's brow furrows. "Or... I could just move the car seat."

Rachel immediately shakes her head. "If you want to spend the next half an hour trying to figure out how to unclip, and then clip that thing again, be my guest," she says.

Quinn grumbles under her breath. "But, my car."

Rachel pats her shoulder. "This'll be the ultimate form of domesticity," she says. "Look at us, even swapping cars. What will the locals think?"

Quinn turns to face her, expression serious. "What _will_ the locals think?" she asks. "I mean, that kind of thing sends a certain message, doesn't it?"

"Well, I mean, the one person I was really worried about now knows, so I find I care exponentially less," Rachel lets her know. "If you'd like to tell Louisa and Jane, please do. I know you've been holding off for my sake, and that hasn't been fair on you."

"Hey."

Rachel pinches at her hip. "Stop being so nice about it," she says. "You've been so patient, and I want to acknowledge it."

Quinn shrugs. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Rachel nods. "It's perfect."

After another kiss to her cheek, Rachel lets her go, Max strapped into his carseat in the backseat of Rachel's _Volkswagen Tiguan _with Lex and Sasha. It's a different kind of drive for Quinn, just a little smaller, but so smooth.

"I like this car," Lex says, and Quinn has to agree with him. "It smells like Rachel."

Quinn glances at him in the rearview mirror. "And, what exactly does she smell like?"

His brow creases in thought. "Flowers," he finally says. "And strawberries."

Quinn hums in agreement. "She does."

Lex is quiet for the rest of the drive, his hand held out for Max to play with his fingers, and Quinn looks at them through the mirror one too many times, because, seriously, how can she not?

When they get to the park, Lex is revved up to maximum energy, and Sasha is practically feeding off of it. Letting them loose seems like the obvious play at this point, so Quinn makes sure his cap is secure on his head, and then sends him off, Sasha trailing behind, his little guard dog.

Quinn keeps one eye on him, taking her time getting Max ready with his own little floppy hat. "Are we taking a walk, Little Bug?" she asks, bent over him as she unclips him from his car seat. "Going to test those legs out on some real terrain, huh?"

"Rachel?"

Quinn's head snaps up, and she looks to the sound of the voice, squinting in the sunlight until her eyes settle on a couple she knows to be Kurt and Blaine, and their daughter. They're standing just behind the car, dressed for their own afternoon at the park.

"Oh," Kurt says, clearly surprised to see her. "My mistake. Just saw the car. Is Rachel around?"

Quinn bristles slightly, because she's honestly never talked to him before. "No, she's not," she says, and then returns her attention to Max, who is starting to get antsy. "Sorry, Bug," she murmurs, and then lifts him right out and into her arms. She steps away from the car to close the door, and she's faced with two stunned faces and a completely distracted third.

"That's Max," Blaine says, a little unnecessarily.

Quinn looks from Blaine to Max, and then back to Blaine. "It appears so, yes," she says. "Say hello, Baby Lamb."

Max lifts an arm in what could be considered a wave.

"Why do you have Max?" Kurt asks, looking utterly confused.

"We wanted to come to the park," Quinn answers, locking the car and pocketing the key.

"Why are you driving Rachel's car?"

"The car seat," she says, as if it's obvious. She moves towards them, and then right past them. "Take care," she says, and then just keeps walking, just knowing Rachel is probably going to get an immediate call about this. She should maybe warn Rachel, so she sends a quick text once she's got Max set up in what Lima has decided counts as a sandpit.

Quinn can feel eyes on her as she settles on a small picnic blanket and watches her boys play, both of them blissfully unaware. Lex is running around as if he's hopped up on some kind of drug, and Max's face is adorably scrunched in concentration as he piles sand.

Quinn's phone buzzes in her hand a few minutes later.

_He beat you to it. That was definitely an interesting call_.

Quinn sighs, glancing around and spotting Kurt and Blaine a few metres away. Kurt is looking at her, but he immediately turns away when he notices her looking. Well.

_Are you okay?_ she types back to Rachel.

_I have no regrets._

_Okay._

_Are YOU okay?_

Quinn considers it. She hasn't given much thought to what it'll be like to be openly and publicly out in Lima. She worried before the move, given this is Ohio, but there's quite an open community here. While not necessarily accepted wholeheartedly, Quinn reasons, there's a sense of ignorance towards homosexuality.

Quinn would take that over hostility.

This entire time, she's been so focused on the way Rachel feels about people knowing they're together, that she's managed to forget about herself.

_I'm okay_, she eventually says. _Nothing's really been confirmed. I'm not ashamed of my sexuality. I'm not ashamed of you or what we have._

_And, what is it we have, Miss Fabray?_

_Forever_.

Quinn is aware she's blushing, so she knows Rachel must be as well.

_Anyway_, she texts again. _Stop talking to me. This is your day with Hugo_.

She gets hugs and kisses in response, which lifts her mood to an astronomical level. It's really the reason she feels brave enough to call Louisa. It's been awful keeping her friends in the dark about her new relationship - she did the same thing with Blair - but her reasons are different this time around.

Today is the day, and now is the time.

Louisa answers on the fifth ring, "Stone."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Hello, I'd like to report a kidnapping," she says. "My best friend's gone missing."

Louisa chuckles. "Hello, asshole."

"Hello, my love."

Louisa snorts. "This is a surprise," she says. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's great," Quinn says, and it's the truth. "So."

Louisa hums in response, sounding a little distracted by something. "So?"

"I have news."

"Is it the kitchen? Is it done?"

"What? Um, actually, it is done, but that's not why I'm calling." Quinn rolls her eyes. "This is big news, Blue," she says. "The biggest."

Louisa seems to hear something in her voice because her breathing shifts and Quinn knows she has the woman's entire attention. "What is it?"

Quinn barely takes a breath before she says, "I'm happy."

"What?"

"I'm so fucking happy, it's actually disgusting."

Louisa digests that. "Oh, my God, did you get laid?"

Quinn laughs. "No, I didn't," she says, and, if she sounds a little disappointed by that, it's her own problem. "The possibility is there, though."

"Oh?"

Quinn breathes out. "You know, for a while there, I wasn't sure I would ever get over Blair," she confesses. "Not because of the actual relationship, but because of the way it ended. Just learning to trust again and put my heart on the line and all that. I didn't think I would be able to do it, not so soon, but - "

"But?"

"There's just something about her," Quinn says, sighing dreamily.

"Are we talking about a certain petite brunette?"

"We are."

"Did something happen?"

Quinn sighs again, and she suddenly feels so young. She never felt any of this with Blair, or with anyone before her. There was no excitement; there was no burning desire to gush about her to all her friends.

There's just something about Rachel.

"Quinn?" Louisa questions.

"I'm in love," she blurts. "We're dating. The kids know. I'm so fucking happy."

Louisa is quiet on the other end.

"Lou?"

"I'm sorry," she says; "I'm still processing. That's a lot."

Quinn waits, trying her best not to let Louisa's lack of reaction dampen her mood. It just feels as if something's not exactly right on Louisa's end, and Quinn isn't sure how to ask the question when she's just confessed to being stupid happy.

Still, she asks, "Blue, is everything okay?"

"What?"

"You seem... off," she points out. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she says. "Just work, you know? Surprises popping up here and there."

"Oh, okay." Quinn leans back, feeling unsettled. She looks back at the sandpit where Max is making a complete mess of himself and his clothes, and then searches for Lex, who is practically leaning over the pond to get closer to the ducks.

Perhaps she should call Jane and find out if something's up.

"Blue?" Quinn asks. "You still there?"

"I need to get back to work, okay," she says. "I'll call you later and we can talk about this some more."

Quinn barely has time to reply before Louisa is dropping the call and leaving Quinn even more confused. There have been times when she's felt like there's some kind of disconnect between them, and this is one of those times.

It was a little difficult for Quinn when Louisa and Jane first started dating, having been the link between them for so long. The idea that they hung out without her was something that took a while to get used to, but she's managed it. It also wasn't fun being the third wheel, and being this far away from them isn't helping, either.

Quinn makes sure the kids are all settled before she dials Jane's number.

Jane picks up on the fourth ring. "Quinnie."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Hello to you, too, J-Rod."

"To what do I owe this unexpected call?" she asks.

"Just wanted to check in," Quinn says. "How's Buttercup?"

"She's a menace," Jane answers. "Three-year-olds are so exhausting."

"I tried to tell you," Quinn quips, just so happy. "It'll get better."

"I'm taking your word for it."

Quinn settles a little, relieved that at least Jane isn't acting too weird. Well. "So, I, uh, was just chatting to your wife," she says. "I had some news for her, and I guess - just, is everything okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"She seemed… off."

Jane is quiet for a long, long moment. "It's probably the case she's been working," she finally says. "It's a really bad one."

"Damn."

"I wouldn't take it too personally," Jane says. "Goodness knows I'm not."

Quinn winces. "Sorry," she says.

"Not your problem," Jane assures her. "But... do I also get to hear this news?"

"You do," Quinn says, and then she tells her.

Jane's excited squeal is exactly the response Quinn has been waiting for.

* * *

_Think you can pick up pie for dinner from Rose's? Please and thank you _😊_ Marley should know our usuals_.

And, well, Marley does.

The teenager gives Quinn what could be considered a particularly knowing look when Quinn places her order, Max balanced on her hip and Lex hovering dutifully by her side. Quinn resists the urge to roll her eyes, because this is a little ridiculous.

"I'll get right on it," Marley says, ruffling Lex's hair, and then floating away.

Quinn swears she's whistling.

"Mom," Lex says, tugging on her shorts. "Can we go wait outside please?"

Quinn glances at him. "Is everything okay?"

"That man is staring at us."

Quinn looks to her right, and, indeed, there's a man staring at them. A boy, really. It's Jake, and sitting opposite him is Noah Puckerman, who looks over at that exact moment. His own eyes narrow at the sight of them, and his features harden when his gaze settles on Max.

Quinn looks away, feeling the need to shield both boys with her own body. Louisa would have a hell of a lot to say about the fact Quinn has made a fair few enemies already, but it's really about the principle. Her kitchen is now complete, and she's actually relieved those men/boys had nothing to do with it.

As much talk as they are about taking her to court, she knows as well as the next person there's no way they'll win. It's as simple as that, so she's just waiting for them to run out of steam and drop it, or she's really going to go on the offensive.

Well.

"Mom," Lex says again. "Please."

"Of course," she says, shaking off her own discomfort. "Let me just tell Mars Bar we'll be outside, okay?"

If Marley recognises that something is amiss, she doesn't mention it. Just lets them know she'll bring their food out to them when it's ready, and Lex leads the way out of the diner, his fingers gripping one of Quinn's belt loops.

Quinn hears laughter coming from that particular booth, and she can't resist looking over. Her own gaze is hard and unforgiving, because it's one thing to have a problem with _her_, but the second her son is involved… well, Quinn has many, many ways to make a man burn.

She's been relatively polite until this point, she likes to think, but she _also_ has a protective cop as a best friend, and Louisa is a handy weapon to have in her arsenal.

* * *

"How was your day with Hugo?" Quinn asks, glancing over her own shoulder to make sure their boys are suitably occupied, and then slipping her arms around Rachel's waist.

Rachel rests her hands on Quinn's shoulders. "I didn't even realise it was something we needed," she says, sounding thoughtful.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Rachel assures her. "I just - I just can't help wondering just how much you mean to all of us. How much you bring to all our lives."

Quinn's eyes widen a little in surprise.

"Is that too much?" Rachel asks, a little panicked herself.

Quinn just shakes her head, and then leans in to kiss her. It's meant to be chaste, but it ends up being anything but, and they only break apart when Lex says, "Gross, Mom."

Quinn laughs as she pulls away and turns to look at her son, internally relieved that he and Hugo are actually smiling. "If you wanted your own kisses, all you had to do was ask," she says, releasing Rachel and stalking towards them.

Their shrieks are possibly the best things she's ever heard.

* * *

Rachel won't stop looking at her. Or touching her. The woman just won't stop, which really isn't a complaint from Quinn, but it does give her incentive to make good on some much needed adult time for them both.

It definitely helps that Lex is now somewhat comfortable being left with Rachel's parents, and, the second they're able to carve out some time for just the two of them, Quinn jumps at the opportunity.

She has a bit of a plan.

She promised to wine and dine Rachel, which is a little difficult to do for something that's considered an afternoon date, but she's willing to work with what she's got.

See, Quinn means for it to be special; she really, really does.

They have maybe a few hours to have lunch, maybe fit in a movie or some other kind of activity Quinn was going to suggest before they have to pick up the kids from Rachel's parents' house.

Quinn _has_ a plan, but that all gets derailed the second Rachel asks to see her completed kitchen.

Which is why Quinn finds herself pulling into her own driveway and leading Rachel into her empty house. It's very apparent Lex and Sasha both aren't here just from the atmosphere, which is suddenly very charged as Quinn closes the door behind them.

If Rachel were any other person, Quinn might even go so far as to say that this was an attempt to seduce. Nobody just wants to see another woman's kitchen, right?

Well.

Quinn gets her answer as soon as they step into the kitchen, her pride at her creation practically bleeding out of her. She's barely had a second to gush about all the changes she's made before Rachel's mouth is on hers, _claiming_ her.

It's rough and demanding, and Quinn takes a moment to catch up, seizing control of the kiss.

Something about the two of them in kitchens, apparently.

Quinn pushes her against the island, desperate to touch and feel. She's warm to the touch, skin soft and mouth pliant under her own.

Rachel slips her hands under Quinn's shirt, determined, and Quinn saves them both the trouble by lifting it right over her head and chucking it somewhere behind her.

For some reason, this is the moment they realise there's no going back if they decide to continue.

"Are you sure?" Quinn asks, breathless and panting.

Rachel nods. "Never been more sure of anything," she says, which probably isn't true, but Quinn will take it. She immediately lifts Rachel up and onto the island, forcing her backwards until she can climb on after her.

"Right here?" Rachel asks, excitement in her voice.

Quinn kisses her in response, her right hand working on the buttons of Rachel's shirt. "No better place," she murmurs, which is probably also not true at all, but who cares?

Like with many things in her life, Quinn is _thorough_.

She listens to every sound Rachel makes, watches every move her body makes, and responds accordingly, hands and mouth working in tandem to give Rachel the greatest experience she's ever had.

Obviously, she succeeds.

* * *

After, Rachel says, "I really like what you've done with the place," sounding sated and so thoroughly satisfied, and Quinn laughs and laughs.

* * *

Quinn, admittedly, has been expecting some kind of panic from Rachel, so when the woman drops off the face of the earth for two entire days, Quinn tries not to take it too personally.

It kind of hurts, though.

She was already wary of taking that kind of step in their physical relationship, and she thinks she should have done more to make sure Rachel was more comfortable with it.

Looking back, she really should have made it more special.

Well, they started on the kitchen island, but they eventually found Quinn's bed - a number of times.

Quinn still flushes at the thought.

The way she worshiped Rachel's body, and Rachel explored hers with a kind of wonder, as if she couldn't believe Quinn exists. The idea that Rachel is as taken with her as she is with the brunette still catches her way off guard. It bubbles within her, threatening to explode on a daily basis.

But, well, today, it's dampened, and she wonders if Lex can tell. He also seems a little subdued, and Quinn wishes her moods didn't have this much effect on him. They've talked about it quite endlessly, but there's only so much she can say and do to prepare him for a mother who isn't always visibly happy.

Quinn schedules a _Skype_ call with Jane and Christine for them both, in an attempt to lift their moods, and it definitely seems to work. Talking to New Haven has always had a particularly positive effect on Quinn, and Jane even says that Louisa's managed to close her rather hairy case and things are almost back to normal.

Quinn wishes for normal, and she gets something not quite close enough when she checks her phone after the call ends to find a text from Rachel.

_Are you free today?_

Quinn, feelings still justifiably stung, is tempted to tell her _no, she's busy_, but she's above being petty and she actually misses Rachel and the boys.

_We can be_, she eventually replies.

And, instead of a reply back, Rachel shows up mere minutes later with Hugo, Max and Marley in tow, and says, "You're coming with me," her eyes solely on Quinn.

* * *

What Quinn expects and what she gets are two entirely different things.

Quinn is still confused about what's actually happening, _and_ she's currently sitting in the passenger seat of Rachel's car. Which she willingly got into, though she still has no idea why.

Rachel walked in, entourage in tow, and Lex asked, "What's happening, Mom?" to which she didn't have an answer.

"I'm borrowing your mom," Rachel told him, and he merely shrugged and just let Quinn leave. Just like that.

If Quinn weren't so tense, she thinks she might be more aggrieved that her son was so okay with swapping her for Max, Hugo and Marley. Not that she blames him, really, because the three of them are much cooler than she is. That's never been in doubt.

In the entire time they've been together - which, admittedly, hasn't actually been that long - Quinn hasn't ever felt this disconnected from Rachel. Even before it all started, Quinn understood her, but she feels lost and confused now.

She thinks one thing, but the nervous energy radiating off Rachel tells her something else.

They really, really need to talk.

Rachel drives them to her house, probably for the privacy to have whatever conversation they apparently need to have. Quinn's confusion and lingering anger and hurt has ebbed to a dull ache, and she thinks she'll be able to have an actual conversation about this now.

Without being accusatory or handing out ultimatums, at least, because that's apparently what she's good at.

It's really their first conflict as a couple, though she can't say it's really any kind of actual _conflict_. Just, they had sex - a lot of it - and then Rachel left Quinn in the dark for two whole days, allowing her to think the worst - which she definitely did.

And, now, here they are.

Rachel pulls into the driveway, and then leads the way into the house. Quinn follows in silence as Rachel makes a pit stop in the kitchen to fetch two bottles of water and then directs them to the main couch in the living room.

Quinn almost wants to put more space between their bodies, but she also wants to be close to Rachel, even if they're not touching. She can still feel the heat of her, which is both reassuring and irritating, because she really doesn't want to be affected by it, at all.

There are a lot of emotions.

"I'm sorry," Rachel starts, and Quinn's frown deepens. It's not an unusual place for this talk to start, but Quinn needs to know what the apology is for. Does Rachel even realise what needs to be apologised for? Does it matter?

"I - I think we should have talked about it first," Rachel adds after a long moment, and Quinn watches her carefully. She seems so much smaller like this, tiny in a way her personality should never be.

"I agree," Quinn says.

Rachel looks up, a little surprised that she doesn't have to explain it more. Quinn has always managed to surprise her. "I'm sorry I freaked out."

Quinn sighs. "Freaking out is fine, Rach," she says. "I just wish you'd talked to me about it. I'm your partner now. You can talk to me about anything. I want and need you to."

"I know," Rachel sighs. "I just - I guess I'm not used to it."

Quinn waits, patient and focused.

"There have been two people before you," Rachel says quietly. "Finn - Finn was my first, in senior year of high school, and also my most recent, I guess. But my all-important first. We'd been dating on and off since we were sophomores by then, and it just felt like time, though I can't be certain I really wanted it." She pauses and licks her lips. "Brody was different. It was - I guess it was just sex at first. I liked him more than he liked me, definitely, and then I fell pregnant, and things just kind of happened after that. It was a relationship, sure, and we were determined to make it work, but it felt so, so hard."

Quinn audibly swallows, recognising that feeling.

"But, with you, it's so easy," Rachel says, and there's a hint of disbelief in her voice. "I like you, and I like having sex with you and being with you and existing in this relationship with you. So, so much, Quinn. It's just that it's nothing I've ever experienced before." She drops her gaze. "So I panicked."

"Because of the sex?"

"Because the sex makes it real," Rachel clarifies. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I can't even imagine what you were thinking," she says, running a hand through her hair.

"I thought you were panicking because I'm a woman," Quinn informs her. "Not because you're just now figuring out you're in your first decent relationship."

"We both know it's a lot more than decent, Quinn."

Quinn manages a tiny smile. "Are you okay now?" she asks. "Did you talk to someone?"

Rachel flushes. "Would you be weirded out if I told you I talked to my Daddy about it?"

"No."

She blinks in surprise. "Well, I did," she says. "He, uh, struggled more than my Dad, with the whole gay relationship thing. Not that that's the part that scares me. It's the - "

"The what?"

"The forever part."

Quinn's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

"Is that too much?"

Quinn reaches for her hands, holding them both in her lap. "It's not," she says. "I'm feeling the same things, as well."

"But you've actually had decent relationships before."

"Perhaps I have," she agrees. "But that doesn't mean this isn't all still new to me, too. Every relationship is different. What we have is different to anything I've experienced before, as well, but - "

"It's forever for you too, isn't it?"

Quinn's thumb rubs over her knuckles. "Is _that_ too much?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you like the adult I'm supposed to be."

Quinn kisses her cheek. "Well, you are barely taller than our sons, so..."

"Har har."

"Are you okay now?"

"I think so," she says. "I just - I guess I just wanted to talk to you, alone, and make sure you know I'm in this. With you."

Quinn blinks. "Make sure I know... how?"

Rachel's gaze drops to her lips for a beat. "Well, I was planning on _showing_ you," she says.

"And, what exactly were you planning on showing me?"

"Just how much I want you."

"Which is how much, exactly?"

"This much."

Quinn barely gets a breath in before Rachel is scrambling into her lap, their lips meeting in a feverish kiss.

_Oh_, Quinn thinks, _that much_.

* * *

Later, Rachel says, "I got close that time."

Quinn hasn't managed to catch her breath, but she still asks, "What?" because she's quite certain she got Rachel _there_.

"I told you I'm going to get you to use my actual name," Rachel says, lifting her head and propping it up with her elbow and hand. Her chest is heaving, her hair a delightful mess, and she's sure there are parts of her body that are still tingling. "I _almost_ got it out of you that time."

Quinn grins tiredly at her. "Oh," she murmurs. "Does that mean you've given up?"

"Of course not," Rachel declares, lifting the sheet and rolling right back onto Quinn, both of them groaning at the touch of bare skin. "I won't stop until I get it out of you," she vows.

Quinn's grin turns saucy, and her hands slide over Rachel's bare back. "If that's meant to be some kind of incentive for me to fold, I'm afraid you're mistaken."

Rachel rolls her hips as she settles more comfortably. She kisses Quinn's cheek just once, and then rests her chin on her own forearms on Quinn's chest. She's ready and willing to go again, but there's something just so perfect about lying here like this, the warmth of Quinn's body and the easiness of her smile surrounding her.

Quinn tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and allows her fingers to linger. "What are you thinking about?" she asks, her voice quiet.

"Nothing, really," Rachel says. "Just how happy I am right now."

"Because you just had two orgasms?"

Rachel pinches her skin, and she yelps. "No," she drawls, and then very deliberately pauses. "Well, not _only_ that."

She traces Rachel's cheekbone with the tips of her fingers. "What then?" she asks, oddly curious.

"You," Rachel whispers. "Just you."

"Me?"

"You make me happy," Rachel confesses; "and I can't say I've ever been before."

Quinn blinks, unsure what to make of those words.

"Every part of my life has been some kind of struggle," Rachel elaborates. "A fight. Something I've had to work so damn hard for, or bend myself out of shape to keep." She meets Quinn gaze. "But not you."

Quinn feels her own heart skip several beats. "I think you and I remember the start of our interaction very differently."

Rachel pinches her again, getting no reaction this time. "That fight was against _this_," she murmurs. "Because this life with you, it's nothing I've experienced before, and it's terrifying." She sighs. "You scare me so much."

Quinn's mouth twists mournfully. "I wish you wouldn't be so afraid of me."

Rachel kisses her, long and slow. "You have many wishes, don't you?"

Quinn allows the mood change, and says, "And one of them is currently lying on top of me."

Rachel beams at her, and then swoops in for another kiss that's definitely leading them somewhere. "Say my name, Quinn."

Quinn laughs, loud and so damn happy. "Make me."

* * *

It takes nearly nineteen minutes for Rachel to convince Quinn they have to get out of bed and face the rest of the day. Quinn grumbles and complains, but Rachel tempts her with her body and a shower, and Quinn is sold, following after her like the goddamn flapjack she is.

What is wrong with her?

It's probably the sex brain.

Something like that.

It takes her a ridiculously long time to recover, really, because Rachel is consistently stunning without even trying, and now that this aspect of their relationship has been unlocked - frankly, the door has been obliterated, at this point - Quinn isn't sure she'll ever get enough.

Still, they have children to return to, and, as much as she enjoys having Rachel all to herself, her favourite moments are when they're all together as one big family.

"Reckon the boys will want pizza for dinner?" Rachel asks as she searches through one of her drawers for a t-shirt for Quinn to wear.

Quinn stands, watching her, just in her cotton shorts and bra. "If you'd just been more careful with my shirt," she teases.

Rachel glances at her over her shoulder, and then quickly looks away. "I promise I'll sew your buttons back on."

Quinn laughs. "If you can even find them."

Rachel finally locates a t-shirt that will probably fit her. "Ah hah," she declares, spinning around. "This should do."

Quinn steps closer to her, reaching out for the navy item in her hand. "This isn't going to be something completely embarrassing, is it?" she asks, using both hands to hold out the t-shirt in front of her, and then gasping. "Baby, no."

Rachel actually giggles.

"I am not wearing anything with _Yankees_ on it," Quinn says, firm. "I'd rather walk around in just my bra."

"And get arrested?"

"We're literally just going to my house," she argues. "I'll stay ducked down in the car. Surely you have something else."

Rachel just shakes her head.

"Why do you even own this thing?" she asks, scowling.

"My Dads bought it for me when I first moved to New York," she says, pouting. "They thought I'd like it."

"We have to burn it."

"Why are you so against the _Yankees_, anyway?"

"Blue," is all she says as explanation, and then hands the t-shirt back to her. "Please can you find me something else? I'll even wrap myself in a towel until I can put something on at home."

Rachel exaggerates a sigh, and then turns around to keep searching. She eventually locates one of her old NYADA t-shirts, worn and faded. She's sure it even has a few holes in it, but, once Quinn slips it on over her ridiculously toned body, it's suddenly the greatest item of clothing Rachel owns.

"I don't think you're ever getting this back," Quinn tells her. "It smells like you."

"I'm surprised it doesn't smell old and musty," she says. "I don't think I've worn it since I was pregnant with Max."

"I'm pretty sure I have none of the clothes from when I was pregnant," Quinn says, running her fingers through her hair like a makeshift comb.

Rachel traps her bottom lip between her teeth, looking thoughtful. "Would you ever want to be pregnant again?"

Quinn blinks. "Are you asking if I want more children?" she asks.

Rachel can't look at her as she nods her head yes.

"It's funny you should ask, because I've been experiencing a rather intense case of baby fever since I met Little Bug."

"So, that's a yes?"

Quinn nods. "I always thought I would have more, one day," she admits. "Just had to find the right person, because going at it alone is barely doable with just the one. You, my dear, are a fucking Saint."

Rachel seems to ignore her. "Are you saying you want more of - of your own?"

"Are you trying to ask me if I'm hesitant to consider your sons as my own the further we go in this relationship?"

"Something like that, yes."

Quinn steps right into her personal space, her hands reaching out to touch. "I'm not at all hesitant," she says. "I'm looking forward to everything our future has in store for all of us. Your boys, my boy, our boys."

Rachel kisses her, hard and sudden, fingers gripping her sides and nails digging in. She's trying to tell her something very, very important, and Quinn is hearing her.

They're both panting when they break apart, and Quinn is so tempted to go in for more. And more.

But Rachel pushes on her chest, putting some space between them, and says, "Pizza, and our boys."

Quinn absolutely loves her.

* * *

Marley stays for dinner at Quinn's insistence.

"There's plenty of pizza to go around," she says, taking out glasses from a top cabinet. "And, from what I've been told, there's a particular duet I'm expecting to hear tonight."

"Oh, my God," Marley says, covering her face. "Did Rachel tell you about that?"

"It's a free concert, as far as I'm aware," she answers with a shrug. "Horatio and the rat are also planning something, so I reckon I'm in for a treat."

"What about you?" Marley asks. "I suspect you play down your singing ability."

Quinn laughs. "Or I'm just trying to save you all from a nightmare."

"There you go again."

Quinn rolls her eyes and says, "Make yourself useful and get the juice out of the fridge."

Marley just laughs, and then does as instructed, the two of them preparing dinner alone while Rachel oversees the tail end of bath time. The house is gloriously alive, and Quinn wishes she could take a snapshot of just what she's feeling in this moment. Keep it forever.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"You're old now, right?"

Quinn glances at her. "I'm not sure where you're going with this," she says, looking sceptical.

"I mean, you're sure of yourself and all that," Marley clarifies.

Quinn blinks. "Well, I'm of the belief you're constantly learning about yourself, but I guess you could say that. It seems as if there's something very particular you want to ask, though."

Marley looks momentarily panicked, like a deer caught in the headlights, but she eventually settles, her fingers nervously fidgeting in front of her. "Is it worth it?" she asks.

"Is what worth it?"

"_It_."

Quinn breathes out, not entirely sure just what she's being asked. It could be a handful of things, based on her unknown career or life as a mother, but she has an inkling it's more to do with the relationship neither she nor Rachel has confirmed.

Which makes her response very easy.

"Yes."

Marley considers her answer for a long moment, and then smiles. "Okay."

"You good?"

She nods. "I'm good," she declares, which is just in time to welcome a running Lex, a stumbling Hugo, an excited Max and a super hot, crazy adorable Rachel into the kitchen.

Quinn has a problem.

Well, she has a litany or problems, but the number one being that she _wants_. It's desperate, bubbling within her and making her borderline delirious with something like happiness.

"Quinn," Rachel says, getting her attention.

"Hmm?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No," she answers, and she means every word. "Nothing is wrong. It's - it's all just so _right_."

Rachel grins at her, and then kisses her cheek. "You're being cute," she murmurs.

"I thought I was always cute," Quinn pouts.

"You're definitely something."

Quinn's eyes darken almost immediately, and Rachel looks entirely too pleased with herself. Quinn wants to reach out and touch her, but she restrains herself. "Dinner's ready," she says instead.

They pile up their plates with the various slices of the pizzas she and Rachel picked up on their way from one house to the other. They encountered Blaine while they waited for their order, and Rachel was more polite with him than she's been with any of her other friends.

Quinn suspects Rachel could be worried about it all getting back to Kurt, and possibly Santana, but she looks very relaxed in this moment. Excited, almost, and Quinn realises it's because of the music.

The way Rachel transforms when she talks about it, casually coaching Marley through a tricky part to the song they're planning on performing, and the way she closes her eyes to listen to the notes.

She's beautiful.

And, when Rachel and Marley eventually get around to singing _New York State of Mind_, their voices distinct next to each other but blending so well together; Quinn knows, without a doubt, that she will do whatever she has to, to make sure these two otherworldly talented brunettes reach for and actually _achieve_ their dreams.

Even if she has to set herself on fire to make it happen. Which, yes, is as sobering a thought as she's ever had.

It helps, though, when Hugo and Lex finally take centre stage with a ridiculous rendition of the theme song from _Phineas and Ferb_.

Quinn reckons she'll never need another reminder of just how in love she is with her life ever again.


	12. XII

**XII**

Sex with Quinn is a little out of this world.

Rachel knows she shouldn't, but she can't stop herself from comparing the experience to those of her past. She wasn't lying when she told Quinn she's had only two partners, and she's felt for them mere fractions of what she feels for Quinn.

Because sex with Quinn is passionate, freeing and downright the best Rachel's ever had. Quinn quickly finds out what Rachel likes and plays her body like an instrument she's mastered, seemingly finding extreme satisfaction in drawing mewls of pleasure out of Rachel's mouth.

Rachel figures Quinn has a thing for making her scream, obscenities and all.

For the first time in her life, Rachel has a physical relationship that matches her emotional one, and she's been sorely tempted to tell Quinn she loves her, but she's terrified of having those words out in the Universe. Not when everything still has the chance of going so terribly wrong.

The closer they get and the deeper they get into this relationship; the more Rachel knows she has to tell Quinn. She _has_ to. Just sit her down and come clean.

But she can't.

Doing so will ruin everything.

But so will not telling her.

It's the worst kind of Catch-22, and it's just going to get worse the longer she puts it off, because there's going to come a time when she won't be able to hide it anymore.

What happens then?

What happens _now_?

Well, now, Quinn is kissing her, fast and feverish, and they really have only an hour before her parents get back with Hugo and Lex. Max is asleep for now, and Rachel needs him to stay that way for about that amount of time as well. _Please, Max_.

Quinn wasn't even supposed to come over, given the number of errands she claimed she had to get done while Lex was occupied and out of the house. But now she's here, tongue in Rachel's mouth and hands under her dress.

Errands, all right.

What Rachel has confirmed for them both in that one hour is that it's not nearly enough time. No amount of time would be, and there's a certain longing that takes root in her chest when Quinn and Lex end up leaving just minutes after Hiram and LeRoy return the boys from their bicycle adventure.

"Someone needs a bath," Quinn jokes, ruffling Hugo's hair. "Did you eat dirt or something?" she asks, looking at all the mud caked over his body and clothes.

"Mom," Lex says excitedly, practically jumping in place as he tugs on her shirt. "I think we found what Hugo's good at."

Hugo blushes, the three of them standing right in Rachel's entrance hall, Quinn already on the way out.

Quinn beams at him. "What did I tell you?" she says, squeezing his shoulder. "You're going to have to show me one of these days."

Rachel starts making plans for it right then and there, because she's really a little pathetic and she wants to be with them always.

To do that, though, she's going to have to tell Quinn the truth.

She just never really gets around to it.

* * *

Nothing really stops her, other than the whirlwind of being in this new relationship, where she's actually happy and cared for and satisfied and -

Did she mention she's happy?

It's a little odd, really, that this is the life she's finally settled into. For so long, she had a very detailed plan, which she's since accepted was forced to change. She's never entertained the idea that she could get back to anything resembling that until now.

In her relationship and her family, she's as settled as she can be, but there's still something that niggles at her.

Okay, maybe a little more than something.

There are a lot of things in New York she still needs to deal with, and there's also the problem of deciding what to do with her professional future. The answer should be easy, but Rachel doesn't want to do the simple thing.

It would be easy to take the job Mr Schuester is offering. She loves music, and she enjoys imparting whatever knowledge she's managed to learn onto those coming up behind her. She won't be _not_ happy with the job, but she just can't bring herself to commit to it.

Financially, she's stable. Finally. It was the most difficult in college, with baby Hugo, a heavy rental and college to get through. She couldn't exactly work good hours, be a mother and be a student all at the same time, so it took a lot of juggling to manage those three things, any amount of sleep _and_ a social life.

It was difficult.

Graduating was both a relief and more of a burden. It took some time to find her proverbial feet, going to auditions and submitting demos to every producer linked to NYADA. It all eventually paid off, and she had a rather significant writing credit on a huge song she won't name, and things really started to settle.

The money is still coming in, and she's since written a handful more. She's certain she'll be able to survive, as long as she keeps writing, but it's difficult to maintain that kind of momentum when she's sitting in Lima, Ohio.

So many thoughts and so many options, and the only person Rachel even wants to talk to about it is Quinn. There are many things to talk about, apparently, but she starts with this:

"What do you think of my being a teacher?" she asks, leaning her back against her couch's armrest, her legs bent at the knee. Quinn's back is leaning against her shins in turn, blonde hair spread over Rachel's thighs.

Quinn pauses her reading, but doesn't turn around to look at her. "Uh," she starts; "I'm not sure if this is some kind of sex fantasy thing you're asking me about."

Rachel laughs. "No, Quinn," she says. "I'm asking your thoughts on me, as an actual teacher to high school students."

"Huh."

Rachel traps her bottom lip between her teeth, unsure what to make of Quinn's reaction - or lack thereof.

"Can I ask why this is a question you're posing?"

"I got offered a job," she explains. "At William McKinley High School, as the Music Director."

"What exactly would that entail?"

"I guess I would be running the entire music department, as well as directing the various choirs," she says. "There's an entire package Mr Schuester sent me, if you're interested in taking a look."

"Mr Schuester?"

"My old show choir director," she says. "He's now the principal."

"When were you made the offer?" Quinn asks.

"A few months ago." She sighs. "Blaine works at Dalton in a similar role."

"Dalton?"

Rachel rolls her eyes at herself, because obviously Quinn has no idea what she's talking about. "It's a private boys' school a little out of town," she says. "Direct rivals to McKinley."

Quinn shifts until she's sitting up straight, her torso twisting to look at Rachel. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Uh."

Quinn frowns. "I can hear it in your voice," she says. "And, honestly, what would it matter what I thought of you as a teacher?"

Rachel blinks. "Wouldn't you care?"

"That you were a teacher?"

"Well, yes."

Quinn clears her throat. "If it's something you want to do; if you will be happy doing it, then who am I to say anything about it?"

"My partner."

Quinn smiles softly. "I _am_ your partner," she says; "which is another reason I'm definitely not going to tell you what to do."

"But, what do you think?"

"I think I would have figured out my sexuality a hell of a lot sooner if you were my teacher."

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh, gasping as she swats at Quinn's shoulder. "You truly are an idiot."

Quinn meets her gaze. "I won't make the decision for you," she says. "Getting involved in my partner's work is a bit of a taboo for me, so I'm not doing that ever again. What I will say is that all I want is for you to be happy. If teaching will give you that; if this job is what you want to do for the next year or even the rest of your life, I'm always going to support you."

"But...?"

"It is _not_ your only option."

"Isn't it?"

Quinn shakes her head. "Of course it's not," she says.

"What else can I do?"

"Who says you have to _do_ anything?" Quinn asks. "I mean, don't you enjoy the work you're doing now? The songwriting? Remote producing?"

"I do," Rachel says, and this is truly the first time she's been able to have this kind of conversation with anyone in Lima. It's almost as if her parents and friends have forgotten it's something she actually does; something she enjoys. "It's just not sustainable."

"Who said that?"

"Me," she says. "I can't just exist on the back of my early success when I'm not directly involved in the business anymore. My name won't have any longevity."

Quinn looks thoughtful. "Is it because you're in Lima?"

Rachel drops her gaze. "Yes."

"Have you ever thought of moving?"

"Back to New York?"

Quinn nods. "Or anywhere else that has more of a music scene," she says.

"I can't," Rachel says, which isn't really an answer to Quinn's question. "My parents are here. My friends. My comfort and support. I've done the single parent thing away from them, and, let me just tell you, Quinn, it's shitty."

Quinn gives her a curious look. "You do realise you're no longer single, right?"

Rachel opens her mouth, and then closes it.

Quinn shifts onto her knees and leans forward, spreading Rachel's legs and crawling over her. She just hovers there, her face a breath away from Rachel's, as she supports herself with one hand on the back of the couch and the other just over Rachel's shoulder. "I will support you whatever you decide, but you have to be the one to decide it."

Rachel just stares at her, eyes darting between each of Quinn's eyes and her lips.

"Is there a deadline?"

"Last week of the summer," she murmurs.

"Then you have time," Quinn whispers, and then she kisses her. It's so, so gentle, barely there. "You and me," she says against Rachel's lips. "We have all the time in the world."

Rachel's left hand slides around her neck and draws her forward into another kiss. She tastes of wine and ice cream, leftover from their dessert, and Rachel wants her quite desperately.

She slowly slides down to lie flat on the couch, dragging Quinn with her until she's resting her weight on her, both of them moaning as they settle. "Quinn," she breathes.

"Hmm?"

Thought evades her as Quinn's mouth latches onto her neck, sucking gently. "I - I - "

Quinn's lips spread into a smile against her skin. "You what, huh?"

Her fingers slide into Quinn's hair, fisting it tightly. "The boys are asleep," she manages to say.

"The greatest part about having young children," she agrees. "Early bedtime."

Rachel hisses when Quinn's right hand sneaks under her pyjama top, seeking her skin, and then her breast. "The boys are asleep," Rachel says again.

"Baby, you're really going to ruin the mood if you keep bringing up our kids."

Rachel laughs, gasping when Quinn tickles her ribs. "I'm trying to tell you we're about as alone as we're going to get with the kids in the house."

Quinn lifts her head right up and peeks over the back of the couch at the bottom of the stairs. "I'm going to need you to be more specific," she finally says, looking back at Rachel.

Rachel rolls her eyes, and then puts her hand on top of Quinn's head. After a breath, she pushes down, clearly indicating just where she wants Quinn. "Is that specific enough for you?"

Quinn shifts down, grinning rather wickedly. "Think you can be quiet?" she asks, sliding her fingers into the waistband of Rachel's pants and tugging down.

Rachel's definitely going to try.

* * *

Update: she's not very good at it.

* * *

Nothing is really decided for Rachel, and she's almost waiting for a sign to help her make the right one. What else does she do if she doesn't take the job? Who is she without some kind of career or purpose?

She wishes she were more like Quinn, who seems so settled in the role of writer, even though Rachel has never even seen her write anything. She's unsure if it's even something she can ask about, so she avoids it as much as possible.

Still, her curiosity gets the better of her, and, when Quinn disappears for some hours while Rachel and her sons are over at their house, Rachel goes looking for her.

Quinn said, "Do you mind watching them for a little while?" and then headed to a room Rachel learns from Lex is actually Quinn's home office.

"Are you allowed to... go inside?" Rachel asks, sounding a little awkward.

Lex gives her a weird look. "Yes," he says. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Am _I_ allowed inside?"

His expression shifts. "Did she say you're not?"

Rachel shakes her head. "I just - it's her creative space, isn't it?"

Lex shrugs. "Sometimes, she tells me not to disturb her," he confesses. "But that's only when she's really insp - inspi - "

"Inspired?"

He nods, eager. "But I can go inside, and I'm sure you can, too."

Rachel accepts his word, and then gets to her feet. "Are you boys okay here?"

"We're okay," Lex confirms, and then returns his attention to the television, silently giving Rachel permission to go off and learn more about his mother.

There's a legitimate part of her that's nervous when she knocks on the closed door. She's prepared for Quinn to reject her entrance - she can understand needing to be alone when working - but she hears a soft _come in_ from behind the door, and she doesn't hesitate.

Quinn looks a little surprised to see her when her head pops in, though not displeased. "Hey," she says, eyes a little wide.

"Permission to enter?"

Quinn waves her inside. "Of course."

She slips inside, still a little nervous, but excited all the same. "So, is this what you do?" she asks, taking in Quinn's office with eager eyes. "Is this where all the magic happens?"

Quinn smiles at her, a little tired at the edges. "I wouldn't really call it magic," she says, yawning. "I've been struggling a bit."

"Anything I can help with?"

Quinn meets her gaze. "I wish I could say yes, but this story just isn't coming together the way I want it to." She glances away. "I _can_ tell you that you _have_ inspired a different story, though."

Rachel perks up, crossing the room to where Quinn is seated behind her desk. She hops onto the wood and lets her feet dangle, an odd sense of giddiness running through her bones. "Can I ask what it's about?"

"You can ask."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Tell me," she pouts. "Anything you're willing to."

Quinn closes her laptop and leans her elbows on the desk, suddenly looking very serious. "I know you won't believe me when I say this, but you truly are one of the strongest people I know."

Rachel shrinks a little. "No, I'm not," she says, the words almost automatic at this point.

Quinn's smile is a little sad. "I think it's taken you until now to realise you've always been strong; you just needed someone to make sure you knew you were allowed to be."

"I needed you?"

Quinn reaches for one of her hands. "I'm writing about a young mother," she says; "who has dreams and ambitions that she's had to set aside to raise her son. Who, when her son is old enough, finally takes the time to re-evaluate her life, and decides she's ready to reach for those dreams again. I'm writing for the person I know you are."

"_Quinn_."

"Maybe you're not ready now," Quinn concedes; "but there will be a day when you are, and I need you to know I'm going to be here supporting you through every step of it."

"I'm happy here."

"Are you happy _here_, or are you happy when you're with me?"

Rachel looks away, feeling a little stung by the phrasing of the question, because that's not -

"Quinn," she sighs.

Quinn gives her a sceptical look. "Who are you trying to convince?"

Rachel clears her throat. "Can we talk about something else?"

"In a moment," Quinn says. "I just have to say this quickly, and then we can shelf this topic for a day that you're actually ready. Are you listening?"

Reluctantly, she nods.

"You are very special," Quinn says. "Talented and fierce and proud and beautiful. You are so much more than this town you've relegated yourself to because you were somehow convinced your fullest life was something you couldn't thrive at on your own. And, you know what, there is no shame in that. Asking for help; needing it, there's nothing wrong with it. Absolutely nothing. But the shame is in believing this is it for you, because it's not. It's not even close. You deserve the world, and I intend to help you reach for it."

Rachel feels tears pool in her eyes, because she deserves none of this.

"Okay," Quinn says. "That's all I'm going to say about that, okay? For now, at least."

Rachel sighs. "You have far too much belief in me."

"I think I believe in you just enough, thank you very much," Quinn says, slightly indignant. "It is my job, as your friend and partner and whatever else I am to you, to help build you and lift you up. How can I even begin to try to be the best _I_ can be, when you're not?"

"What if this is it for me?"

"It's not."

"What if it is?" Rachel insists. "Would you still want me if this is all I am? A washed-up almost-Broadway star, jaded from failed relationships; an exhausted mother-of-two, who's probably going to spend the rest of her life teaching music rather than performing it."

Quinn presses her palm to Rachel's knee. "Firstly, I will _always_ want you," she says, low and purposeful. "Secondly, if I believed you were truly happy being exactly that person, then I wouldn't even be talking about this, but we both know this life isn't all you're capable of."

"Quinn," she breathes, suddenly tired.

Quinn squeezes her knee. "Whenever you're ready," she says. "Okay? Just know I will always believe in you, no matter what you want to do. I just wish you would do what makes you happy."

"I do," Rachel says. "I do _you_."

Quinn laughs unexpectedly. "You are an idiot."

"But I'm your idiot."

Quinn's smile softens, and she lifts Rachel's hand to her mouth, softly kissing her palm. Rachel can feel the curve of her lips against her skin, and the moment is perfect. "Indeed you are."

* * *

Quinn schedules a formal date for them on a Thursday, and Rachel panics that she's planning on them going to Rose's Diner again.

She's mistaken, of course, because Quinn rather _uses_ the fact everyone Rachel knows goes to the diner, in order to get them a free evening somewhere else.

Quinn is a genius.

It's just dinner, at a bit of a farm-to-table place a short drive out of town. Rachel's heard of it from Kurt, but she wasn't interested in trying it until Quinn mentioned the possibility. Before, she wouldn't have come herself, and she knows Finn wouldn't have bothered bringing her this far out, just for dinner.

She's both relieved and happy she gets to experience all of this with Quinn.

They hold hands as Quinn drives, fingers linked, and Rachel isn't at all anxious. Not the way she was on their first date.

She can't tell if it's the idea of going somewhere it's unlikely they'll meet anyone she knows, or if she's just more settled in this relationship now that it's been a few weeks. How much does she care if people know she and Quinn are dating? She almost thinks she _wants_ people to know, because Quinn is stunning, and Quinn is hers.

And, when Rachel says stunning, she means it. Especially tonight. Quinn is wearing a low-cut black jumpsuit that is positively indecent, and Rachel is struggling not to stare constantly. Her gaze keeps drifting, down the line of her neck, along her delectable collarbones to the spanse of milky skin between her breasts.

It's really not fair that there's a human being who actually looks like this. She's beautiful and Rachel loves her and she really, really hopes she gets the chance to undress her before the night is over.

Quinn pulls into an unpaved parking lot almost twenty minutes later, her smile small but present. "So, I hear they grow nearly everything they serve right here," she says as she climbs out of the car and rushes around to Rachel's side, holding the door open. "Especially the veggies."

Rachel won't admit to looking through the menu rather extensively online. She's pretty sure she already knows what she wants.

Quinn offers her arm once Rachel's feet are steady and the car is locked, and Rachel immediately takes it. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?" Quinn murmurs.

Rachel sighs happily. "You may have mentioned it once or twice."

"Only once or twice?" she asks, exaggeratedly aghast.

Rachel laughs, just enjoying this moment. This evening. This woman.

This life.

She positively swoons when she realises Quinn has actually made a reservation, and, this time, Quinn pulls out her chair and _stays_, guiding her back in. Their server, Amy, is young, probably a college student, and she's definitely more enthusiastic than the establishment requires.

Too enthusiastic, actually.

Especially with Quinn.

It's such an odd feeling for Rachel, because she managed to convince herself this wouldn't happen to her ever again. And yet, here she is with someone whose general good looks are capable of attracting all kinds of attention.

She dealt with it most notably with Brody, who loved to play it up, claiming he was hoping to get a free meal. It's sobering, watching your partner make eyes with a waitress while you're sitting right there.

Quinn does none of those things.

In fact, she barely acknowledges Amy beyond a polite greeting and a brief question on a recommendation of wine. Rachel didn't even know it was something she needed to witness; some kind of affirmation that Quinn is here with _her_, and her eyes are never straying.

Quinn eventually orders them one of Amy's recommendations, of which Rachel knows she'll be drinking majority. It's a red, which is Rachel's favourite, though she doesn't mention it when Amy leaves, because she's sure Quinn already knows.

Conversation is easy as they discuss the menu, and Amy eventually returns with their wine, ready to take their order. Again, Quinn indicates for her to speak first, and Rachel wonders what kind of idiot every person Quinn's ever dated must be, to let her go.

"Are you going to make me get rid of my leather jacket?" asks as soon as Amy is out of earshot.

Rachel blinks, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

Quinn smiles at her. "I just - I mean, you must be a vegetarian for a reason, so I'm asking if leather is as much as a no-no for you as it is for other vegetarians, or lapsed-vegans, I guess."

Rachel lifts her glass to sip at her wine. "I wouldn't wear leather," she says. "I wouldn't even wear fake leather, but that's an entire other bucket of ethical concerns."

Quinn raises her eyebrows.

"But, no, I wouldn't make you give up anything, Quinn," she says. "And, honestly, I happen to like the way you look in your leather jacket."

Quinn grins at her. "I knew it."

"As if it's some big secret," she says with a shake of her head. "And, honestly, I think I'm a vegetarian by the principle of sheer stubbornness, at this point. I mean, how much of a veggie can a person be when all they do is pick the meat out of regular food?"

"Regardless of that, I still think it's admirable that you've managed to stick with it, in any form," Quinn says. "I don't think I have enough discipline for that."

"I told you I'm just really stubborn."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Sure thing, Berry Blaze."

Rachel shakes her head, carefully sipping her wine again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Rachel pauses, suddenly unsure how her curiosity will be received. It's something she's been meaning to ask for a while, and this seems as good a time as any. "You don't have to answer, of course, but, uh, I guess I was just wondering about your family."

The change in Quinn is instant. Her relaxed demeanour shifts into something tense, and her lips purse from her obvious discomfort with the topic.

Rachel wants to take her words back immediately, but Quinn starts speaking before she can.

"I'm not sure what exactly you want to know," she says, looking so very young, all of a sudden. "I have a mother and a father, and I have an older sister. I suspect, by now, I probably have a niece or a nephew, perhaps both. I wouldn't know."

Rachel wants to reach out and touch her; offer her the chance to stop.

"I never quite fit into my family," Quinn says. "I knew it from an early age. I think we all did. I was just different, though I'm not sure I could explain it. I was quiet, but I wasn't. I was smart, but also not. I was the perfect daughter, but also defective. I think I grew up as such a contradiction that I never quite figured out who I was until _I just did_.

"There were a lot of expectations for us," Quinn continues, her eyes slightly unfocused as she stares at some point over Rachel's shoulder. "My sister, Frannie, she could handle it better, and she was my father's pride and joy. I... was… not." She blinks, and then looks at Rachel's face. "I did what I could to convince him I was worth it, of course. I was head cheerleader, class President, valedictorian, all those things that should make a parent proud, but it just..." she trails off, and then clears her throat. "I went to Yale both to get away from him but also keep him off my back. It was a good decision in many ways, even though it led to the ultimate inevitable. As hard as I tried, the end was coming, and I guess the pregnancy just arrived before the acceptance of my sexuality.

"Of course, I had an idea what would happen when I found out I was pregnant," she says. "I had an _idea_, but it was still shocking hearing my father tell me to get out of his house and never come back. That I was no daughter of his; that he would never let me just embarrass him with a child out of wedlock. God, imagine if he knew where Baby even came from." She shakes her head, a wry smile on her face. "So, I left. It was heartbreaking and harder than I ever imagined it would be,. All I know is I never would have survived any of it without James and Blue."

"What about your sister?" Rachel asks, unable to stop herself.

Quinn's features harden, which Rachel definitely shouldn't find as sexy as she does. "I tried calling a handful of times, but I got the message rather quickly. It's something that's taken years to accept, but I have. I'm probably happier now, with my found family, and - " she stops, sighs. "Granny Fabray was the only one who ever reached out to me, a few months after Lord Lexington was born. I was wary at first, but she used to come out to New York quite often, and we were just two hours away, so we'd see her whenever she was there."

Rachel smiles softly.

"I think, in the beginning, it might have been some kind of massive _fuck you_ to her son, but we totally won her over, because, and I quote, 'Leo and I are wonderfully charming.'"

"That, you most definitely are."

Quinn sighs. "I hadn't seen any of my family until the will reading," she admits. "I didn't get news of her passing until her lawyer contacted me. It was - it was horrible. Baby didn't handle it well at all, especially after everything with Blair." She sucks in a sharp breath. "So, I came to Lima for the reading, and all the family I hadn't seen in years was there, and it was whatever, I guess. It was never about them, anyway, and Granny Fabray totally proved it to the lot of them when she left everything to me." Quinn laughs, the sound a little dark. "Can you even _imagine_ the chaos that caused?"

Rachel winces, actively trying not to.

"They contested the will, obviously, but she was definitely of sound mind, and that was that. Here I am, living in her house, trying to live a good, happy, fulfilling life the way she's always wanted me to."

This time, Rachel does reach across the table to touch her, fingers light on the back of her hand. "I think she'd be proud of you."

Quinn still looks so young, even through the dark makeup and hair that is practically begging Rachel to run her fingers through. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Quinn's smile is a little lopsided. "Did you know she hated Blair?" she says. "Like, _hated_ her."

Rachel puffs out a breath. "Well, Quinn, I don't even know her, and I'm pretty sure I hate her."

Quinn laughs, and it sounds lighter than it has all evening. She looks as if she's going to elaborate on her own segueway, but that's the moment their food arrives, and Quinn smiles in thanks at Amy.

Whose eyes linger just a little too long on Quinn to be strictly appropriate.

If Quinn notices, she doesn't mention it, and Amy disappears with what she clearly intends to be a flirty _just let me know if you need anything; anything at all_.

Rachel's fists clench, but Quinn looks wholly unaffected as she lays her napkin over her lap and breathes in her steak, this happy little grin spreading across her face.

"This is happiness on a plate," Quinn says, lifting her silverware, saying a brief prayer, and proceeding to begin eating.

It takes Rachel a little longer to settle, but she eventually does, and they spend the next few minutes eating in silence. She wants to bring up Blair again, but she thinks the moment's gone. It's probably better to stick to safer topics, anyway, and she's just about to comment on her own food when Quinn suddenly speaks.

"We were together for three years."

Rachel blinks, absently wondering how Quinn even _does that_. She rests her silverware on the edges of her plate and sips at her wine, giving Quinn her undivided attention.

Quinn isn't looking at her, though, and it's perhaps easier for them both. "We met at her work. Blue's work. She was a little older than both of us, already promoted to detective in Robbery." Her jaw tenses, and she seems to force herself to relax. "She had dreams of working in homicide. They all do, really, but it just wasn't working out or whatever. Anyway. We met and we started... seeing each other. It was casual at first, no commitment, and it was just simpler if we kept it completely under the radar. Nobody knew. Not a soul. It - it wasn't even the whole gay thing, which I would have understood, but she insisted on keeping us a secret for so long, and - "

"Baby," Rachel breathes.

"It reminded me of Patrick," Quinn admits, blinking repeatedly. "I think I would have been devastated if she also turned out to be secretly married, because, wow, don't I know how to pick them?" She lets out a nervous laugh, and Rachel drops her gaze immediately. God. "But, then, something happened to her," Quinn says. "It was totally out of the blue, but there was a hostage situation, and - " she stops and blushes. "Well, after that highly emotional day, it was pretty clear to everyone we were involved. Looking back, now, I think she was almost guilted into a real relationship because of the way it all came out, and - "

"Quinn."

"I can see it better, now that it's over," she says. "Have you ever just had to _drag_ someone through everything? And, you _know_ they're reluctant, but..." she trails off, and then shakes her head. "Three years I'm never getting back."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because I know exactly what that feels like," she says. "Though, I've got one up on you, because it's been so much more than three years."

"Lovers, huh?"

"Can't live with 'em; can't live without 'em."

Quinn meets her gaze and holds it, her expression sombre and serious. "I think we have to go through those bad experiences to appreciate the good ones."

Rachel breathes out, her body relaxing. "And, how would you rate this experience?"

Quinn tips her glass in her direction, and very purposefully says, "Infinite."

* * *

Rachel almost wants to skip dessert entirely.

It's partly to do with what Quinn is wearing, sure, but also a lot to do with Amy, who keeps making eyes at Quinn as if Rachel isn't sitting right there. It was borderline cute at first, but it's just irritating now.

Quinn still asks about dessert, of course, and Rachel gets the impression Quinn probably wants to hang around a bit more to allow herself more time to sober up from her single glass of wine.

"We can share," Quinn offers with an indulgent little smile.

Rachel nods just once, and then Quinn orders them a half portion of baklava and a scoop of vanilla ice cream, coupled with a cappuccino for herself.

Quinn looks rather amused when she looks back at Rachel, Amy walking away to deliver their order to the kitchen for preparation.

"What?" Rachel asks, licking her lips, when she's stared for just a little too long.

"Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

Rachel gives her a questioning look. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"I feel as if I already know the answer to this question, but I still have to ask if you are aware of Amy's attention?"

Quinn grins, as if she finds it the funniest thing in the world. "I am, yes," she says, almost sounding happy about it. "You're cute when you're miffed."

"_We_ are on a date," she says, pointing at Quinn, and then at herself. "_You_ and _me_. I'm pretty sure it's obvious by now."

Quinn just smiles, as if it's not obvious at all. Rachel narrows her eyes, because it's almost as if Quinn is daring her to do something without actually saying the words.

"Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

Rachel lifts herself out of her seat and leans right over the table, her one hand sliding behind Quinn's neck while the other rests on the table for support. She barely hesitates before drawing Quinn forward; closer. Into a brief kiss, that probably lingers more than is strictly necessary.

Quinn looks a little dazed when Rachel returns to her seat. "Huh," she breathes; "totally obvious now."

Rachel laughs softly.

Quinn glances over her shoulder for a moment, checking if Amy did, indeed, see the display, and then she winks at Rachel, clearly enjoying herself far too much. "I think Amy got the message," she says, looking just a little smug.

Rachel blushes, not willing to look at Amy herself. "Should I feel bad?"

"Nope," Quinn tells her. "By all means, claim me as many times and as much as you want."

Rachel groans internally, her mind going some inappropriate places. Those are images she really needs turned into reality, and she desperately needs them not to be in public right now. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?"

"Get dessert to go."

* * *

Rachel has had sex in a car only once before, and she vowed, back then, she wouldn't ever do it again. It was profoundly uncomfortable, unpleasant, and she didn't even -

And, yet, here she is, actually reconsidering it.

She's also sorely tempted to make Quinn pull over somewhere, just so she can touch. She really, really wants to touch, but Quinn very pointedly told her to sit on her hands, lest they end up causing some kind of accident.

There's an overwhelming sense of desperation creeping into her bones, though she can't be sure why. Almost as if they're running out of time, which is truly a sobering thought.

Because she has an idea as to why that could be.

Rachel finds it much easier to keep her hands to herself after that thought trickles through, and she falls silent, her eyes looking out the window as the trees drift by. This is the last thing she wants; the last thing they need is for her thoughts to ruin their evening, and she -

"Hey," Quinn murmurs, getting her attention. "Everything okay?"

Rachel audibly swallows, her heart beating a little too fast. "Quinn," she breathes; "Can I ask something?"

"Of course," Quinn says.

"Would you - is there - "

"Barb," Quinn says. "What's wrong?"

She chuckles, almost unexpectedly. "I really hate that name."

Quinn grins at her. "Reckon tonight's the night you get me to use your real one?"

Rachel lets out a breath. "You're presuming you're getting lucky," she says.

"I'm already lucky."

"Charmer."

Quinn smiles, gentle and knowing. "There's something on your mind. I can tell."

Rachel sighs. "I want to tell you something, but I'm unsure how it's going to be received."

Quinn doesn't say anything.

"We're still getting to know each other, and I really, really like you, and I guess I'm just worried that - "

"I hope you know you can tell me anything."

"What if it's a dealbreaker?"

Quinn gulps. "I - uh - not many things are," she says, which is definitely very revealing. "You haven't murdered anyone, have you?" she tries to joke.

Rachel sighs. "I just - I really, _really_ like you, Quinn." Which is just her cowardly way of saying _I love you_ without actually saying it.

Quinn says nothing, and they spend the rest of the drive in silence. There's something unspoken now hanging between them, and Rachel isn't sure what to say to alleviate the growing tension. She doesn't want their relationship to suffer through this kind of awkwardness, but she also isn't sure how to make the situation better.

Quinn drives them to her own house, which is probably more comfortable for her. They still have a few hours left before they have to pick up the boys from Rachels' parents' house, and, until she opened her stupid mouth and brought doubt into their relationship, she _knew_ how they were going to spend their time.

Now, not so much.

Which is why it's both a relief and a surprise when Quinn closes the front door behind them and kisses her. Quinn backs her into the door, pressing their bodies together, and Rachel sighs into her mouth.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispers, because she is.

Quinn just kisses her harder, and Rachel almost loses herself in it. "It's okay," she says, nipping at Rachel's bottom lip. "It's okay," she says again. "You'll tell me. I know you will."

Rachel hears her words without her having to say them, but Quinn still does.

"Whenever you're ready."

* * *

It's almost jarring the way Quinn sweeps it all under the rug; just sets it aside for whenever Rachel really is ready.

Rachel doesn't know how she does it, because it sits on her own brain rather extensively. Quinn just doesn't seem real, and Rachel spends long moments just staring at her as if she doesn't believe Quinn exists.

"You're staring at me."

Rachel snaps to attention, blinking several times. "Huh?"

"Why are you just staring at me?" Quinn asks, splitting her attention between the wok on the stove and Rachel sitting on a stool at the kitchen island.

"I - I really appreciate you making me that stir fry," she says.

Quinn just smiles. "When the kids ask for fried chicken… that doesn't really leave much room for you," she says, as if it's nothing.

Rachel knows it's not nothing.

Everything to do with Quinn is always _something_.

"And, you're still staring," Quinn teases, her eyes giving away her amusement. "You hot for me, Berry?"

Rachel instantly flushes, and Quinn laughs as she tosses the vegetables in her wok. Rachel just watches as Quinn pours in some soy sauce, and then a dash of sesame oil, before she picks out a strip of red pepper to give it a taste.

Rachel thinks Quinn is sexiest like this. So clearly in her element, her shoulders relaxed and her smile easy. She's in her stupid denim shorts again, long legs so deliciously on display. Rachel didn't even know how much she appreciated a person's arms until the first time she witnessed Quinn lift Max above her head.

"Still staring," Quinn says, switching off the burner and sliding over to her, stepping right into her space. "The question, now, is _why_ are you staring?" She parts Rachel's knees and moves in closer. "Something on your mind?"

Rachel tilts her head up to meet her gaze. They both already know the answer to that question. "Hugo just abandoned you," is what she ends up saying.

Quinn laughs, low and breathy. "Shows just how interested he is in vegetarian dishes."

"At least he stuck around for the fried chicken," Rachel says, her fingers reaching for Quinn's shirt and slipping through the spaces between her buttons.

"I dig his priorities," Quinn murmurs.

"And _your_ priorities?"

"You," Quinn says, her hands resting on Rachel's thighs, fingers warm against her bare skin. "_You_."

"Me," Rachel echoes, her eyes dipping to Quinn's lips, almost without her say-so.

Quinn's mouth spreads into a smile. "And our three monsters, of course."

"Lest we forget our little princes."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "We should probably let them know dinner's ready, shouldn't we?"

Rachel peeks a look around Quinn, even though she can't possibly see into the living room from her position. "We should," she agrees, though neither of them makes a move to do that. Instead, she tugs on Quinn's shirt, clear intent in her eyes, and they sink into a deep, deep kiss.

It is so easy, and it is still so surprising.

Quinn kisses her so slowly that it hurts, as if she's kissing just for the sake of kissing _her_. Her hands tighten on Rachel's thighs, guiding her forward to the edge of her stool, and their bodies press together.

There's no obvious desire to take it any further, but Rachel still makes a sound of complaint when Quinn ends their kiss, slowly pulling away and opening her eyes.

"Dinner," Quinn reminds her.

"Who needs food?" she asks with a pout.

"Uh, every living being on the planet," Quinn quips, grinning at her. "So, just ease up on the pout, will you? We'll get a chance to continue this later."

Rachel meets her gaze. "Promise?"

Quinn laughs sweetly, stealing a quick kiss. "I promise," she murmurs, and then disappears from Rachel's space completely.

Rachel almost reaches for her again, but she lets her go, doing her best to set aside her anxiety. It works, for the most part, because it's so easy to be with Quinn and their boys; to be present and a part of this life she's suddenly so desperate to hold onto.

It's real and forever, and Rachel loves every part of it.

Which is why she's so terrified of losing it.


	13. XIII

**XIII**

_I don't suppose you're free tonight?_

Quinn grins at the message, because Rachel already knows she doesn't have plans. They even discussed it the night before.

When they managed to squeeze in words between kisses, that is.

_I could probably move things around_, she texts back. _What's up?_

_My Dad has been nagging me about having you and Lex over for a barbecue. Like, constantly bugging me about it, and I think he might actually combust if I don't at least try to make it happen_.

_I'm assuming it would be in poor form to hold off as much as possible, just to see if he does combust, right?_

The wait for a reply is a little long, and Quinn can only imagine Rachel's laughter. Eventually, though, her phone buzzes, and she automatically smiles.

_Just say yes, you idiot._

_To what? There was no question._

_This is a formal invitation to a summer barbecue at my parents' house this evening. Do you accept?_

_Time?_

_Quinn!_

Quinn laughs out loud, just picturing Rachel's adorable frustration. God, she wishes they were together right now.

_Of course we'll be there, Strawberry_, she sends, and then follows it with a string of kiss emojis, before asking if there's anything she needs to bring.

_Just your cute butt and that ridiculously cute son of yours._

_Sash?_

_Oh, definitely. My Daddy is going to go crazy for her._

_Cool :) But, seriously, what time?_

_Four-thirty_.

_I'll be punctual. Need to make a good impression and all._

_You realise they've met you before, right?_

Quinn rolls her eyes, because it's obvious Rachel doesn't realise just how stressful this could all prove to be.

_That was before they knew for sure we're together_, she sends back, and then adds, _Also, we have sex now - what if they can tell?_

_Then they'll know just how satisfied I am._

_You're not helping._

_See you tonight, lover._

_Yeah, yeah... Later, Berry ;)_

Which is really how Quinn finds herself standing on the Berry family's deck some hours later, beer in hand and easy smile on her face. It was a little awkward when she first arrived, given that she's more of a stranger than Lex is.

LeRoy had also very formally held out his hand for her to shake, which she knows was a test. She can only hope she's passed.

The evening, so far, is going well.

Hiram reintroduced himself as Rachel's father, and then took her on a tour of the house before depositing her right here with an ice-cold beer and declining her offer for help.

She wanders over to where LeRoy is at the grill, doing her best to appear confident, even if there's a part of her that doesn't feel it. LeRoy appears a lot more reserved than Hiram, and she reasons it's going to be a bit more difficult to earn his acceptance.

Parents are weird.

She met only Blair's mother once, when she visited New Haven from Florida. It was an accident, if anything, the two of them visiting Blair at the precinct at the same time. It was surprising to Quinn, seeing her there, and then hurtful having Blair pretend she was just a friend.

They had a rather big fight later that night, Blair claiming it was just better not to get her mother involved in their lives, and the two of them didn't speak for four days before Quinn sucked it up and texted a reminder that Lex had a soccer game on the weekend.

Blair showed up, and they never did discuss Blair's mother again.

It didn't even matter in the end, because Blair ended up leaving two months later, and Quinn still feels the sting of it.

_Relationships_ are weird.

LeRoy glances over his shoulder at her approach, smiling softly. "Hey there," he says. "Come to make sure I'm not burning anything?"

"I hear you're the cook in the family, so I'm not worried," she says.

"I'm probably going to be overtaken by Hugo one of these days," he says. "It's all he can talk about."

She blinks a little stupidly.

"Cooking with you, Quinn," he says, eyeing the grill for a moment. "Thank you for taking the time to help with that."

"Of course," she says, because it's really no sacrifice on her part. "I reckon I have more fun than he does, most of the time. I love getting to witness the boys learn and experience new things. Their brains are fascinating."

LeRoy looks at her for an uncomfortably long time. "Lex is a lovely boy," he says.

"Don't say it too loudly," she says with a slight grin. "It'll go straight to his head if we're not too careful."

LeRoy laughs, his shoulders relaxing enough for her to accept she might just stand a chance with this man. She doesn't normally place any importance in what men think of her, but Rachel is important, which means all the men she's related to are also important.

So far, she's managed to win over Hugo and Max, Hiram probably, and now LeRoy seems to be warming up to her.

Hopefully.

* * *

Quinn eventually moves on to where Lex, Hugo and Sasha are running around on the lawn, the three of them burning off their lingering energy from the day. She doesn't get involved, choosing rather to stand and watch and _enjoy_ their happiness.

It's where Rachel finds her, appearing at her side with a smile she's sure matches her own.

Rachel slides an arm around her waist and reaches up to kiss her cheek, which makes her smile grow. "Did you want another drink?"

"No, thank you," she says, lifting her beer bottle to show Rachel the level. "I actually like this; whatever it is."

"My Daddy gets it from Cincinnati," Rachel says. "It's actually where he's from."

"How did you guys end up here?"

"Who knows?" she asks. "Really, I wish I knew, so I could figure out just what possessed two gay men who wanted a _child_ to settle in this backwards town."

Quinn winces. "Not a fun time, huh?"

"The worst."

Quinn presses a kiss to her temple. "It's changed, though, right?" she asks, only slightly worried. It's something she's always worried about when it comes to Lex, but she's done a lot to prepare him to be able to deal with bigots and prejudice.

"I think it's improved, yes," Rachel says, looking thoughtful. "I've never really had to pay that much attention to it, in regards to my own kids, but I guess it's different now."

Quinn winces. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

Quinn sips at her beer. "I don't know," she says. "I just get the impression my arrival has made your life more complicated."

Rachel squeezes her waist in soft rebuke. "That is both an accurate and inaccurate statement," she says. "Your arrival has definitely stirred things up, but I am so happy, Quinn. _So happy_. This past year has been so difficult. It's made me question everything I've ever wanted; forced me into a life that was lacklustre and dull beyond my children. But, now, you're here, and you're everything I had no idea I ever wanted or needed."

Quinn pulls her into a hug, because she can't think of what else to do. She just needs her close, in her arms, forever.

"Hey, Lovebirds," Hiram eventually calls out, interrupting their moment. "Dinner's ready."

* * *

"So, Quinn, what exactly do you do?"

Hiram asks the question, trying to keep his tone light, even though Quinn and Rachel both know this is going to be a mild interrogation.

Quinn hesitates. "Um, I'm a writer," she says.

Hiram's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh? Anything I would have seen?"

"I'm not sure," she lies, knowing full well she saw a handful of her own books on the shelves in the living room when she came in. She's not one to brag, and she chose a pseudonym for a reason.

"Are you successful?" Hiram asks.

"_Dad_," Rachel says, sounding a little scandalised.

Quinn can find it in herself to be amused, but she has no time to respond before Lex is speaking.

"They want to make her books into a TV series," he says, squeezing some ketchup onto his burger.

Quinn's eyes widen, because he's definitely not supposed to know that. LeRoy and Hiram both look surprised, and Rachel looks thoughtful. "Have you been talking to Lindsey?" she asks Lex, momentarily forgetting their audience.

Lex shrugs. "She wants to know why you won't agree."

"Oh, my God," she growls. "I'm going to kill her. She's even using my own kid against me."

Rachel places a hand on her leg under the table. "That sounds like a big deal, Quinn," she says.

"We must have heard of you, then," Hiram muses.

Quinn wants nothing more than to switch topics, and she almost manages it by bringing up the food again, but the traitor that is her son decides he's suddenly very talkative.

"Her books are about Detective Matilda Swanson," Lex says, finally taking a bite of his burger, and Hiram actually gasps.

LeRoy actually looks shocked and Rachel's fingers dig into her thigh, making her squirm in her seat.

"Tilda is yours?" Hiram asks in a near whisper.

Quinn takes a breath, and then nods. At the moment, there are only three books out in the series, with the fourth currently being edited and thoroughly reworked.

They can't know how much it's taken out of her to keep writing about a woman who reminds her so much of Blair. They can't know how hard it's been to separate her life from her art enough not to make Matilda bleed she's sometimes wanted Blair to.

"So, you're Lucy Quinn," LeRoy says, and he sounds impressed.

Quinn doesn't blush, but she comes close.

"I'm a fan of your earlier works," LeRoy says. "The rawness behind the story in Your Soul really struck something with me."

Quinn audibly swallows. "I - I wrote that one while I was pregnant," she explains. "The first draft was my Undergraduate thesis."

"Amazing," Hiram says.

Quinn does blush now, and she makes a point of taking a bite of her burger to hold off any further questions. Her reluctance to give some production company the rights to her work isn't something she's willing to talk about at the moment. Or ever.

As much as Quinn is currently disillusioned about Matilda Swanson at the moment, the character and universe is still dear to heart, and she can't just hand it all over to someone else.

Or, she could, and just be done with all of it.

It's a relief when conversation moves on to other things, though she knows this isn't the end of it. The rest of the meal is gentle on her, though. The questions are mild, and she reasons it has a lot to do with the presence of their children.

Quinn is still a little wary, though, because she wants Rachel's parents to like her and accept her. This woman is her future, and that's something not to take lightly.

She helps clear the table once they're done, while Rachel sets the boys up in the living room with a movie and some ice-cream. Hiram hovers near Quinn, both of them working rather efficiently.

"Fancy a night cap?" Hiram offers once the last dish is safely packed in the dishwasher.

Quinn shakes her head. "Not if I plan on driving," she says. "Do you have anything else?"

She ends up picking some iced tea, and then the two of them go back out onto the back deck, finding Rachel standing and watching LeRoy have what seems like a rather animated conversation with Sasha.

Quinn moves to stand at her side, casually slipping an arm around her shoulders.

"She's a responsible one," Hiram tells Rachel, standing at Quinn's other side.

"I know," Rachel says, even though she doesn't know the context.

"Me thinks you've picked a good one," Hiram teases them, his eyes looking onto the grass where LeRoy is now throwing Sasha's tennis ball.

Rachel leans into Quinn. "I think so, too."

"At least we'll be supportive when you marry this one," Hiram jokes, and Rachel stiffens.

Quinn frowns. "This one?"

Hiram laughs heartily. "Try talking a teenage Rachel out of marrying Finn Hudson in high school," he says with a decidedly-fond shake of his head; "only for her to go and marry her first boyfriend in college."

Quinn feels as if someone's just dumped a bucket of ice water on her. She looks to Rachel, almost expecting her to laugh the entire thing off, but she's studiously avoiding Quinn's gaze.

"You're - you're married?" Quinn asks, suddenly feeling sick.

Rachel opens her mouth, and then closes it.

Quinn blinks once, twice, and then abruptly drops her arm from Rachel's shoulders as if she's been burned. "You're married," she accuses. "God, you're married." She steps back, stumbling, this moment taking her back to a certain office at Yale, her telling Professor Patrick Caulfield she's pregnant and his telling her he's married.

She'd been sick then, and she's going to be sick now.

She's going to throw up right here.

"I - I _told_ you how it felt," Quinn chokes out. "To - to be the other - I can't - why would - " she stops quite suddenly, turns sharply and stalks into the house, quickly locating the closest bathroom. She has just enough time to close the door and get the seat up on the toilet before she's expelling her dinner - and probably her lunch, as well.

She's overreacting, perhaps, but it's just so jarring. The idea of Rachel - her sweet, sweet Rachel - being married to someone else makes Quinn burn with embarrassment and hurt worse than anything else.

Rachel could have told her.

She _should_ have told her.

Quinn vomits again, and, yip, _that's_ definitely her breakfast.

She's a cheater all over again.

It's even worse this time, because Rachel knows. She's known all along, and -

There's a knock on the door, and a soft voice says, "Quinn?"

Quinn is both relieved and disappointed it's not Rachel. Though, LeRoy is the last person Quinn wants to be talking to about any of this. Well, no, there are probably a list of people ahead of him, but she's trying not to think about that.

"I - I'll be right out," she forces herself to say.

"There's no rush," he says. "Just making sure you're okay."

Quinn almost snorts, because she's definitely not okay. How is she supposed to be okay? Her girlfriend - partner, or whatever she is - is married. _Married_. Rachel said 'I do' to someone else, and just conveniently thought to leave that out of their entire relationship.

Jesus Christ.

Quinn slowly gets off her knees and onto her feet. She flushes the toilet and then walks to the sink, not daring to look at her reflection as she rinses out her mouth. Her heart rate has slowed, thankfully, but her head is whirling.

It's time to go home. Just take Lex and go, and maybe she'll be in the right state of mind to talk about it tomorrow. Or the next day.

Or never.

Quinn sighs heavily, and then turns off the water. No use wasting that precious resource while she tries to figure out her life. She moves to the door, rests her hand on the handle and takes a breath. She can do this. All she has to do is be polite enough to get out of here - hopefully without Lex figuring out something is off - and then she can give it all some more thought.

Which is a plan that gets completely derailed when she opens the door and finds a nervous Rachel Berry standing there. Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth and her fingers are twisted in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Rachel says, almost blurting out the words, and Quinn has the childish urge to close the door again.

Rachel pushes forward, forcing Quinn back into the bathroom. She closes the door behind them and leans against it, trapping them both.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn," Rachel says. "I should have told you. God. I definitely should have told you."

"Why didn't you?"

Rachel drops her gaze. "We got married a few months after Hugo was born," she explains. "At City Hall. It was - it wasn't romantic or meaningful or - " she stops, shakes her head and sighs. "It was meant to give Hugo safety." She shakes her head. "By doing it, I just gave up my own."

Quinn can barely look at her.

"When I left New York, I filed for divorce," Rachel says. "Brody's been sitting on the papers, because he's convinced it entitles him to live in my apartment and not have to pay any child support." She takes a breath. "That night, when you told me about what it was like for you, I had my lawyer serve him again," she explains. "I - I haven't had a reason to push for him to sign until now. It was just easier to be separated the way we were, because I won't drag my kids through some custody battle or whatever shit Brody might try when he figures out he's entitled to nothing."

Quinn waits for her to say more, but it's as if she's finished. "That still doesn't explain why you never told me," she points out, because they are definitely not finished.

"I - I don't know," Rachel confesses. "I just didn't. I didn't know how. I didn't want to. I didn't want to create an awkward situation. You - you told me how it all made you feel, and I was scared I would lose you if I told you. I didn't want to break us. There are so many reasons, and any one of them could be true, but my truth is I just don't know."

Quinn feels lightheaded, and she takes a step back to sit on the edge of the bathtub. "You still should have told me."

"And, what would have happened if I did?"

"Don't do that," Quinn snaps. "This isn't about my potential reaction. Don't use it as a damn excuse."

Rachel says nothing.

"We've had sex," Quinn says, more to herself. "We're together in every sense of being together. Your kids are like my own. You're - you're supposed to be - " she stops.

"Quinn?"

"I've just about wrapped my head around the fact your sons have an actual father," Quinn says. "It's going to take me a lot longer to get used to the idea that you also have an actual spouse."

Rachel flinches. "I'm sorry."

"What does this mean for us?" Quinn suddenly asks.

"What?"

"What does it mean for us that you're married?" Quinn asks, and her voice is tense.

"It means nothing," Rachel says. "Nothing changes."

"That's not true, and you know it."

"I'm getting divorced, Quinn," Rachel says. "Nothing changes."

"You talked about custody," Quinn says. "Does the fact we're in a relationship jeopardise that?"

"Of course not," Rachel says. "Brody's been in relationships since before I even left New York. I'm not worried about whether I'll get custody of my children. I'm more worried about what he'll say and do to make sure I don't."

"And you don't think he'll use me against you?"

Rachel audibly swallows. "Is there something to be used?"

Quinn's gaze hardens. "I'm not hiding a marriage from you, if that's what you're asking."

Rachel sucks in a breath. "_Quinn_."

Quinn gets to her feet. "I'm not willing to do this right now," she says. "I'm going to take my son home now, and we can talk about this at a time when I don't feel blindsided and something akin to betrayal."

Rachel doesn't move.

"Please," Quinn says. "I'm feeling a lot of things at the moment, and I would rather not add guilt to it when I end up saying something I'm likely to regret."

"I am sorry," Rachel says again, but does move away from the door. She walks towards the sink, leaning against it and watching Quinn with wide, apologetic eyes.

Quinn clenches her jaw, wondering how everything's just managed to go so wrong. They were fine. Right? They were just fine, and now -

Quinn hesitates, and then shakes her head, moving towards the door. She thinks she should be saying something, but she can't think of the right words.

So, she says nothing and leaves.

Somehow, she still ends up with regrets.

* * *

Quinn waits until Lex is tucked in his bed and asleep to slide into her own bed and call Louisa. She has a feeling her best friend is still awake, so she doesn't feel as guilty as she probably could calling so late.

"Please tell me you got laid," is the way Louisa answers the call, and Quinn closes her eyes, suddenly stricken by the truth she's now had sex with _two_ married people. "Quinn?"

"She's married."

Louisa's mouth snaps shut.

"She's married, Louisa," Quinn repeats, and it hits harder actually saying the words out loud.

"_Quinn_."

"I don't - I can't - why - what am I supposed to do?" she starts and stutters. "She's fucking _married_."

"_Quinn_."

She forces herself to take a deep, calming breath, but it still hurts.

It _hurts_.

"What do you need?" Louisa asks. "Q, what do you need?"

"I don't - I don't want to be this person again," she says, and her voice is doing something she absolutely _hates_. "She - she lied to me, Lou. After I told her how it felt to find out about Patrick's wife; to be some other woman, to be his damn side piece. She sat there and listened to me go on about it, and the whole time, she's - she's - _fuck_."

"Quinn."

"She's supposed to be the one," Quinn continues. "She _is_ the one. I can't - why did - why wouldn't she just _tell_ me?"

Louisa doesn't respond, which really tells Quinn that they both already know the answer to that question. Rachel already answered it, anyway.

"Lou," Quinn breathes.

Louisa sighs. "What do you want me to do? You know I can make her life difficult the way I've been doing with that Puckerman asshole," she says, which gets a tiny smile from Quinn.

"No, don't do that," she says, because that would just be a disaster. "And I'm pretty sure she's not wanted for questioning over a robbery in Columbus."

"The man is truly a national treasure," Louisa says sarcastically. "We're really doing the world a favour here, you know?"

"Oh, definitely what I set out to do," she quips, and then groans. "Falling in love was never in the plans."

"Since when do plans ever work out, Q?"

Quinn thinks there's probably some philosophical answer she could come up with, but she's just so exhausted - physically and emotionally. "What am I supposed to do now?" she asks, her voice cracking. "What do I do?"

"Just take a breath," Louisa says, trying to sound as calm as she possibly can. "Take lots of breaths. There we go. Breathe in, and out. Again."

"I _knew_ it was too good to be true," Quinn says after a moment.

Louisa sighs. "Don't say that," she says. "It's not the end of the world, and you know it. I'm assuming you talked?"

"A little, yeah."

"What did she say?"

"She's been trying to divorce him for over a year, but he's not budging."

"See," Louisa says, a little too loudly. "It's not as if she's planning on staying with him. I'm pretty sure she would happily let him know she's been seeing _you_."

"She hasn't even told her friends," Quinn points out.

"Hmm, well, it seems to me that's even more of a complicated situation than a potential _estranged_ spouse," she says. "It's not the same, Quinn. We both know it's not the same."

"Then, why does it still hurt?"

"Oh, babe, it was always going to hurt," Louisa whispers, and there's something particularly pained in her own voice. "Still, I'm sorry it does."

"It's best I know, right?" Quinn murmurs.

"I - yeah," Louisa softly agrees.

"I hate this."

"I know, Q."

Quinn sighs. "What do I do now?" she asks.

"Now, I suppose you get some sleep," Louisa says, quiet and purposeful. "Just let yourself breathe and get some sleep, okay? Things will be clearer in the morning."

"Clearer?"

"You'll be able to see through the haze of the hurt," Louisa explains. "You'll be able to make more sense of it all."

Quinn closes her eyes. "I wish - " she starts, and then stops.

"I know, baby girl," Louisa says, her voice low and soothing. "Everything is going to be okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Louisa says, and Quinn has always been inclined to believe her.

* * *

Quinn wakes what feels like two seconds after _finally_ managing to fall asleep to find fifteen separate texts on her phone, ten from Rachel, three from Louisa and two from Jane. She can barely bring herself to check any of them, but she does manage a thumbs-up to Louisa, which she suspects the redhead will pass on to Jane.

Quinn isn't even going to touch anything Rachel's sent.

Not yet.

If Lex can tell something is off with her, he doesn't mention it. She makes him pancakes, mainly because _she_ needs the comfort of them. She doubles up on the chocolate chips, wanting to spoil them both for no other reason than her heart is hurting.

After they've eaten, she does the dishes and then spends a few minutes on the phone to Jane, the two of them talking about absolute nonsense, while Lex watches cartoons.

Jane doesn't mention Rachel at all, which Quinn definitely appreciates. Instead, she discusses the new plans she's been working on for a potential house they're considering flipping.

"We can come help," Quinn offers, wondering if getting out of Lima for a little while would help her heartache. "I could probably use some demo."

Jane sighs. "I'm sure breaking some shit would help with a lot of things, but we both know you're eventually going to talk to her."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Because I know you, Fabray, and you're not dumb enough to let a good one like her go, even if she has done something stupid."

Quinn scoffs. "Stupid," she mutters, and then clears her throat. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you don't want me visiting you."

Jane laughs, and, if it's tinged with a hint of nerves, Quinn convinces herself she's imagining it. "I don't even know where you'd sleep, to be honest," she says.

"Why?"

"Your best friend kind of went a little crazy at an antique road show over the weekend."

"Oh, my God," Quinn laughs. "Again? I thought you capped the antique spending."

"Apparently, there were many things on sale," Jane says, the exasperation clear to hear in her voice. "It isn't even about the money at this point. We just don't have the space, and I think she wants to put a shed in the backyard to store all her crazy pieces."

"Maybe you should design an entire antique house," Quinn offers, greatly amused.

"I will _strangle_ you if you so much as suggest such a thing to my wife," she says. "We would _never_ sell it."

"I mean, I'm sure there's a niche buyer out there, looking for exactly something like that."

"Quinn, be serious," Jane laughs.

"You're right," she jokes; "Louisville would want to live in it, not sell it."

"Can you actually imagine?"

Quinn hums softly, sobering slowly. "Did - did Lou tell you what happened?"

"In bits and pieces," she admits. "She still struggles with what to tell me, on most days. We share everything, but it's all a little sticky when it comes to you."

Quinn audibly swallows. "I don't want to be a reason you keep secrets from each other."

"I know, Sweets, but the reality is that there are things you discuss with me that you don't with her, and vice versa. We've accepted our roles in your lives, and I know I wouldn't have it any other way."

"You know I appreciate you both, right?"

"Of course, Quinn," she says. "Of course we know that."

"I don't know what to do."

"Now, now," Jane muses. "We all know that's a lie."

"It is?"

"You know exactly what you're going to do," Jane says, and she sounds all-knowing. It's the way she always sounds when it comes to Quinn, borne of years of friendship that started out as something antagonistic.

"And, what is that, exactly?" Quinn asks, desperate to know.

"You're going to talk to her, and you're both going to figure out all of this."

Quinn sighs. "What if I don't want to?"

"It doesn't have to be today, or even tomorrow," Jane says, patient and understanding. "But you're not an idiot, Quinn. I know it hurts, but Rachel isn't Patrick. She's not. She's also not Blair. She's Rachel, and she made a mistake, but she loves you and Lex, and that's not something she's just going to give up. You shouldn't, either."

Quinn doesn't say anything.

"Give yourself some time," Jane adds. "There's no rush."

"Because we have the rest of our lives?"

"Only you would know that."

* * *

The calls start promptly at noon, as if Rachel has decided enough time has passed and Quinn has probably had her morning coffee.

Only one of those things is correct, and Quinn can't bring herself to answer the phone. Nor can she do it the second, third or fourth time.

Rachel works on a schedule after that, calling every fifteen minutes, and Quinn is tempted to switch off her phone, because she just can't handle it.

No.

She's trying to be a mature adult, and she doesn't want to _hurt_ Rachel by ignoring her so thoroughly. The problem is she's not ready to talk, which isn't being helped by Rachel's pestering, so she sends it all in a text, letting her know she'll call when she's willing to talk.

The reply arrives instantly, and Quinn actually manages a smile.

_Sorry. You're right. I'll be here whenever you're ready_.

* * *

It takes two days.

Almost three, but Quinn accidentally presses the Call button while she's staring at Rachel's contact on her phone, and it all kind of snowballs from there.

_Blooms_.

Quinn asks, "Do you want to come over?" to her rapid greeting, and Rachel arrives a half hour later with her sons in tow.

Hugo squeezes the life out of her before following Lex up the stairs to his bedroom, and Max clings to her legs until she lifts him into her arms and hugs him until he's squirming to be set back on the ground. He stumbles a bit, but then takes off towards the living room on steadier legs.

Then it's just Rachel, standing in her doorway, diaper bag slung over her shoulder, and a nervous look on her face. She makes no move to enter any further, and Quinn doesn't step back.

Quinn just stares at her for the longest time, and Rachel allows it, keeping her own gaze steady. Quinn isn't sure what she expects, but this all feels too heavy with the weight of something she's not sure her shoulders can carry.

Wherever they go from here, there's no going back.

She takes a breath, releases it slowly, and then says, "I'm thinking of getting a haircut."

Rachel blinks, clearly not expecting her to say those words. Frankly, Quinn is surprised, too, but they're out there and it's some kind of start.

"Like, chopping a lot of it off," Quinn elaborates, using her right hand to indicate a length to just above her shoulders. "What do you think?"

Rachel's upper lips twitches, and then she asks, "Will there still be enough for me to grab onto?"

Quinn laughs unexpectedly, blushing. "Uh, yeah, there should be."

"Then you should go for it, if you really want to."

Quinn hums. "There are many things I want."

"What do you want?"

"An explanation," she says. "The truth. Full disclosure."

"I'll give you anything," Rachel says, and she may as well be saying _I'll give you everything._

Quinn steps back, creating space for Rachel to enter the house, and she does. She steps over the threshold, and Quinn feels all the discord that's been going on in her head and heart just settle.

They're going to get through this.

She just knows it.

Rachel leads the way into the living room where Max is spread on a mat, playing with toys Quinn already set out for him. Rachel looks over at her with the softest expression, and, yeah, they're going to be just fine.

"Coffee?" Quinn asks.

"Got anything stronger?"

Quinn blinks. "Espresso?"

Rachel bursts out laughing, and Quinn joins her after a moment. "Sure, Quinn," she says, her voice gentle. "I'll have an espresso."

Quinn feels a little bemused, and she's sure she must look it, too. "Right this way," she says, leading the way into the kitchen. The open floor plan allows them to be able to see Max while they're in there, and Quinn has never been more relieved.

Though, even she has to admit she enjoys the walls separating Rachel's kitchen from time to time, seeing as it's given them several opportunities to get frisky without being detected.

Pros and cons, and all that.

Quinn moves towards the _Nespresso_ machine she purchased just the day before, suddenly eager to put it to use once more. "I have a Colombian blend," she says, moving through her kitchen with ease. "Does that interest you?"

When she receives no response, she turns back around to see Rachel standing there, just watching her.

"Rach?"

"We both know we're not in here for coffee, Quinn," she says, and Quinn deflates. "I just - I need to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, and I'm doubly sorry you had to find out the way you did."

Quinn leans against the closest counter, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She doesn't want to appear closed, when she's here and willing to listen.

"My Dad thought you already knew," Rachel says, dropping her gaze. "And, you definitely should have. My parents weren't holding their punches when they let me know exactly that."

Quinn purses her lips.

"I wanted to tell you," she says. "I've wanted to tell you for a while. I just - I was scared. I still am. This all terrifies me." There's a silence that stretches between them, and Quinn remains perfectly still. "It got more complicated when I had to consider your past experiences," she says. "At a certain point, it stopped being something I could just tell you. It never even mattered to me, but I knew it would matter to you, and I - I like you _so much_, Quinn, and I didn't want to ruin us."

Rachel sucks in a breath. "Have I?" she asks in a whisper, her voice shaky. "Have I ruined us?"

Quinn doesn't immediately respond, because she's not going to rush any of her responses. This _is_ a conversation. "No, you haven't," she says. "We're not ruined, but we're definitely changed."

Rachel nods, sombre. "In a bad way?"

"Just changed."

Rachel's shoulders slump. "What happens now?"

Quinn's fingers twitch at her sides, and she's weak. So, so weak. With a slight growl at herself, she crosses the space between them in three large strides and wraps her arms around Rachel, just needing to touch her. Hold her. Breathe her in.

Rachel tenses for just a moment, before she sags against Quinn, her fists grabbing onto her shirt and _holding_. Quinn closes her eyes and allows herself to set aside everything else and just enjoy this moment. They're going to figure everything out.

For now, she and Rachel are just going to stand here, together, and _breathe_.

* * *

Breathing actually turns into coffee, and then into actually talking and, before Quinn really knows it, everything starts to feel so normal and easy that she actively has to recall just what's so disjoint about their relationship.

Rachel makes no moves to touch her, which Quinn appreciates, right until the moment she just doesn't. It hits her quite viscerally that, if she _were_ an idiot, she wouldn't allow herself the comfort of just being with Rachel. She would deny herself this simple pleasure.

Because Rachel is here. She's here, and she's ready and willing and all those other things Quinn has always wanted in a partner. Rachel wasn't hiding her marriage for the same reasons Patrick was, and that makes a hell of a difference.

"Now who's doing the staring?" Rachel asks when Quinn hasn't said anything in a few minutes, her mind elsewhere.

They're still in the kitchen, Rachel casually scrolling through her phone for potential ideas for dinner as she sits at the raised island. Quinn's just finished perusing her fridge for ingredients they can use, and now she's thinking long and hard about how she's _certain_ the worst part of the marriage revelation is over.

It's over. Done with.

Of course, there's still the whole divorce thing that Rachel insists her lawyers are handling, but none of that is stopping them from being together now and enjoying their relationship and their family and their lives.

"Quinn?" Rachel calls, sounding a little nervous. "Is everything okay?"

And, for the second time in the day, Quinn crosses the kitchen with purpose and invades Rachel's space. Something about kitchens, apparently. She peeks at Max for a moment, making sure he's occupied, and then she kisses Rachel.

Kisses her the way she's wanted to for days now. Kisses her the way they both deserve; desperately need, and Quinn feels her every muscle relax at the intimate contact. It's supposed to be easy, and it truly is.

It's terrifying, and Quinn _gets it_.

Quinn breaks their kiss, and smiles at the dazed look on Rachel's face. It's the perfect moment to reveal the depths of her feelings. She suddenly _knows_ it, and a part of her is convinced she's going to have to be the one to say the words first. Especially after the past few days they've just experienced.

"There you go, staring again," Rachel murmurs, breaking into Quinn's thoughts.

Quinn kisses her again.

And again, and again, until she _has_ to breathe.

"Can I ask you something?" Rachel asks, her own breathing heavily.

Quinn blinks. "Of course," she says.

"Are - will, uh, will we be okay?" she asks.

Quinn rests her forehead against Rachel's, her eyes slipping closed. "I don't know if you'll believe me when I say this, but I think we already are."

"Really?"

Quinn kisses the tip of her nose. "We still have a lot to talk about, of course," she says; "but we're talking, and we're okay."

Rachel's hands slide to her waist, gripping her shirt. "We're okay," she echoes, a hint of disbelief in her tone.

Quinn shakes her head at the idea that Rachel probably expected the worst out of this situation; that she must have thought it was over. That Quinn would leave her over this.

The same way everyone else seems to.

"We're okay," Quinn confirms again, maybe redundantly, but not unnecessarily.

Rachel tugs her closer, hands sliding under her shirt and splaying across her back. "Can I ask you something else?"

Quinn just hums in assent.

"Can we please have pancakes for dinner?"

* * *

"Stay."

Rachel visibly startles at the word, looking at her with wide eyes. "Stay?"

Quinn audibly swallows. "Stay," she repeats. "Just, stay."

The boys are already asleep upstairs, Lex and Hugo in Lex's bedroom and Max asleep in a guest room, tucked away in the portable crib Rachel keeps in the back of her car. Normally, Rachel and her sons would be leaving about this time, so it's a surprise to them both when Quinn asks her not to.

"Are you sure?" Rachel asks, clearly hesitant.

"I am," Quinn says. "Only if you want to, though."

"I want to," Rachel immediately says, and then flushes darkly. She clears her throat. "I mean, of course I want to."

Quinn smiles, resisting the urge to tease her, and then resettles on the couch. She lifts her arm to invite Rachel back into her space, and she sighs in content when Rachel leans against her, an arm resting over her abdomen.

There's really nothing more for them to say, and they settle into a cuddle as a David Attenborough documentary finishes playing on the television screen. Quinn is barely paying attention, her eyes half closed as the narration slowly lulls her to sleep.

"Quinn," Rachel eventually says, sounding amused. "I think it's time for bed for you."

Quinn clears her throat, blinking her eyes open. "Just me?"

Rachel kisses her cheek. "I suppose you could convince me to come with you."

Quinn's eyes slide towards her. "And, how exactly would I do that?"

Rachel just chuckles as she forces herself to her feet and holds a hand out for Quinn. "Come on, sleepy head," she says; "let's get you to bed."

"I'm not even that sleepy," Quinn grumbles, slipping her hand into Rachel's and allowing herself to be pulled up. "I swear I'm not," she adds, and punctuates it all with a wide yawn.

"Uh huh," Rachel says, nodding. "Totally believe you."

"Shut it."

"It's because you pulled an all-dayer, isn't it?" Rachel teases, her fingers squeezing Quinn's for a moment before she releases her hand and reaches for the remote to switch off the television. "Didn't catch a nap today, did you?"

Quinn huffs. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of getting through a day without needing a nap."

Rachel pats her chest, smiling indulgently. "Whatever you say, Quinn."

Quinn just shakes her head, and then moves to run through her bedtime routine. She checks the locks on the doors, makes sure the food is packed away and switches off all unnecessary lights.

Once upstairs, she and Rachel check on all the boys together, peeking into Lex's bedroom first and laughing at the way Lex is spread out like a star. Hugo is in a mess of blankets on the carpet, with Sasha dozing near his head.

"I'm thinking of getting a bunk bed," Quinn says, whispering as they make their way to the guest room where Max is also a little spread-eagled in his crib. "I think the boys will like it."

Rachel catches her hand, linking their fingers. She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it a beat later, blushing.

Quinn just kisses her temple, and then they make their way to her bedroom. It's not Rachel's first visit, but it's the first time she's staying. Just the thought of that rids Quinn's body of it's lingering lethargy and she's suddenly very wide awake.

With a slight spring in her step, she locates some clothes for Rachel to wear, and then disappears into the bathroom to use the toilet and brush her teeth. They swap places once she's done, and Quinn dashes downstairs to get a bottle of water - and actively stops herself from thinking about the reasons why she's suddenly thirsty.

When she gets back to her bedroom, Rachel is sitting at her vanity, removing her makeup, careful with her movements. Quinn wants her to stay for forever.

With a content little sigh, she sets her water on her nightstand, and then moves to gather some clothes for herself to change into.

"Can I ask you a question?" Rachel asks once her back is turned.

Quinn unbuttons her shirt, her eyes studying her closet for something comfortable to wear. "Sure," she says, eventually sliding her shirt off her shoulders and letting it land on the floor. She unclasps her bra next, keeping her back to Rachel and finding an old grey t-shirt that's definitely seen better days. She's already slipped it on when she realises Rachel still hasn't asked her question.

She turns to ask her what's wrong, only to find Rachel sitting and staring at her, lips parted and her pupils dark. Quinn gulps. "What was your question?" she prompts.

"You are so beautiful."

Quinn blushes. "Not a question, Porcupine."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Take off your clothes and call me Rachel," she says, entirely too seriously.

Quinn licks her lips. "Soon," she promises. "But, seriously, what's your question?"

"Why Lucy?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your pseudonym," Rachel says. "How did you pick Lucy? Why? Was it random, or does it have some special meaning?"

Quinn quickly exchanges her denim shorts for some flannel pants, and then moves to her side of the bed, a thoughtful look on her face. "Uh, well, I mean, it's my name," she eventually says.

"What?"

"Lucy," Quinn says, pulling back the covers. "It's my name. Lucy Quinn Fabray."

Rachel stares at her, a little slack-jawed. "No way?"

Quinn rolls her eyes as she climbs into bed. "Totally way."

"Lucy," she says, rolling it off the tongue. "Why do you call yourself Quinn? Has it been long?"

Quinn licks her lips, shifting to lie against her pillows. "I started the summer before high school," she says. "I, uh, needed a change from the person I was." She blinks. "I hated being Lucy."

"Why?"

"Because my father hated her."

Rachel gets to her feet, then, and crosses the room to the bed. She barely pauses as she makes the decision to climb onto Quinn, straddling her legs and looking right into her eyes. "My sweet, sweet baby," she murmurs, kissing the tip of Quinn's nose.

Quinn's hands rest on her hips, holding her close. "He preferred Quinn, and so did I," she explains. "I just - I just wanted him to like me."

Rachel wraps her arms around Quinn's neck and hugs her tightly.

"It turns out it doesn't matter what I'm called," Quinn whispers.

Rachel kisses her left cheek, and then her right. "It has nothing to do with you," she says. "You know that, right?"

Quinn closes her eyes, and Rachel kisses each of her eyelids. "Logically, I know, but they're the people who raised me and were supposed to love me, but they kicked me out and threw me away like the trash they always expected I'd be."

Rachel hugs her again, so tightly that Quinn can barely breathe. It's obvious she doesn't know what to say, and Quinn appreciates the fact she's not trying to make her feel better with misplaced words.

She does try to make her feel better, though, with kisses, and Quinn allows herself to be distracted by Rachel's mouth and Rachel's hands and Rachel's delicious, glorious body.

Quinn takes control moments later, her heart pounding and expanding, because this is Rachel Berry, whom she cares for so, so deeply that being without her blood family is worth it. Being unwanted and hated for no legitimate reason barely compares to the feeling of Rachel's body arching against hers.

"You have to be quiet," Quinn warns, even more turned on by the sound of Rachel panting against her ear.

Rachel tries, though she's not particularly successful, coming just a few minutes later with the name _Lucy_ on the tip of her tongue, and Quinn loves her.

God, she loves her more than she thought she ever could.

After, Rachel forces them to get dressed, because they have children who are prone to just bursting into their bedrooms first thing in the morning, and Rachel would rather not explain why she's naked.

Quinn kisses her a handful of times when they finally climb into bed together moments later. Rachel snuggles into her side, arm draped over her abdomen and her nose pressed into her neck.

It's not long before Rachel is asleep, and Quinn is halfway there. The fact she can even fall asleep to the sound of Rachel's breath right beside her, even against her, is everything she's ever wanted.

She's honest-to-God _happy_.

Which is exactly why the Universe decides to fuck everything up.


	14. XIV

**AN**: Without giving too much away, there are trigger warnings for drunken debauchery and gun violence.

* * *

**XIV**

Rachel hears the noise first, her eyes automatically opening at the foreign sound in the dead of night. At first she thinks it's Max or one of the boys going to the bathroom, but the sound is heavier and coming from downstairs. A kind of thud, and then a scrape.

There it is again.

For a moment, she's sure she's imagining it, but then there's another sound, like a door opening and closing, and her senses are suddenly on alert.

Without hesitation, she shakes Quinn awake, who, to her credit, immediately sits up, realising something is wrong. "What is it?" she croaks out.

"There's someone in the house," she says, her voice low.

It takes another moment for Quinn's brain to wake fully, and then she's shifting into protective mode beyond anything Rachel has ever seen. Quinn rolls out of bed, quickly and silently, and drifts to her closet.

Rachel just watches as she reaches up, keys in a code to a small safe and emerges with a small pistol, which she tucks into the back of her pyjama pants.

Rachel gulps.

Quinn looks at her. "I'll explain later," she whispers, and then shifts to the door. "We're going to get the boys, and you're going to lock yourselves in the master en-suite, okay," she instructs, and Rachel doesn't question her.

Quinn opens the door as silently as possible and listens for movement. There's a lot of it all of a sudden, as if whoever is in the house doesn't care that they're making noise. She turns to Rachel. "Stay here," she whispers, and Rachel does. She just watches as Quinn crosses the hallway towards Lex's room, opening the door and immediately saying, "Sasha, heel."

After a minute, the dog exits the room first, her ears up, Quinn following with a sleeping Hugo in her arms and Lex stumbling behind her. She hands Hugo to Rachel, and then disappears to get Max.

Lex holds onto her t-shirt and pulls her towards the bathroom. "Put Hugo in the bathtub," he says, and Rachel does exactly that. She's just straightening when Quinn returns and hands her Max, her phone and a baseball bat.

"Quinn," she breathes, suddenly unsure.

"Call the cops," she says. "Don't open that door for anyone other than me, okay?"

"_Quinn_."

"Rachel, please," she says, squeezing her hand, and the fact she uses Rachel's given name tells her all she needs to know. "There are people in _my_ home, endangering the lives of _my_ family, and I am not going to stand for it, okay?" Quinn presses a kiss to her forehead. "You have to stay here and protect our boys, okay?"

Rachel holds onto her hand, stopping her from leaving.

"I have to - " Quinn starts.

"I love you."

Quinn's eyes widen, and then she flinches when a glass shatters downstairs. "Stay here," she instructs. "Lock the door, call the cops." She looks at Lex. "Call Louisa after."

Lex just nods, and then Quinn is gone, shutting the door behind her, closing them off from the world.

Rachel manages to lock the door, her body numb. There are people in the house. Quinn has a gun. She called their children 'our boys.' Rachel just told her she loves her.

Oh, God.

Lex takes her phone from her hand, and she turns to see him punch in 9-1-1. Right. Of course.

"Hello," Lex says, voice clear. "I'd like to report a burglary in progress."

Rachel just stares at him, because he shouldn't even know that sentence. She just watches with wide eyes as he explains the situation the best he can and gives them the address. He's so calm and composed, and Rachel both envies and hates it.

When the call ends, Lex calls another number, waiting a few moments until he says, "Aunt Lou, there are people in the house." He winces a little, probably at the volume of her voice on the other end. "We're in the bathroom. Mommy's downstairs with Sasha." He glances at Rachel. "Rachel, Hugo and Max. They slept over. Yes, the door is locked. Yes, we called the cops. Okay, hold on." He holds the phone out to her. "She wants to talk to you."

Rachel takes a breath, and then brings the phone to her ear. "Uh, hello," she says, watching as Lex takes Max from her and moves to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

"Rachel," Louisa says. "Are you okay?"

"Not really."

"Can Lex tell?"

"I think so."

Louisa waits a moment. "Look, Quinn is very capable of handling herself," she explains. "I trained her myself. She wouldn't willingly walk into a situation she couldn't handle, so you don't need to worry. She also has Sasha, and she's the best weapon. Just stay with the boys, talk to Lex about soccer or something, just to distract him, and it'll be over in no time, you'll see."

"O-okay," she says.

"I'll stay on the line, okay?"

"Okay," she murmurs, unable to shake the numb feeling as she puts the phone on speaker. She moves to sit beside Lex, gently wrapping an arm around him and sighing when he leans against her. She rests the baseball bat against her thigh, wondering if she'd be willing to swing it if it comes down to it.

One glance at Lex and Max, and she knows her answer.

"Were you dreaming?" Rachel asks quietly, trying her best to ignore what could possibly be going on downstairs.

Lex nods. "We were at a carnival."

"All of us?"

"Even Aunt Lou and Aunt Jane and Christine," he says, smiling a little tiredly. "I like carnivals."

"I do, too."

"Mommy even lets me have funnel cake _and_ cotton candy," he lets her know, grinning toothily. "And she goes on all the rides with me."

Rachel can't really think of anything to say, so she kisses the top of his head, hugging him closer. She's never been more relieved that Hugo is asleep, because she doesn't think she would be able to handle his fear as well as her own.

"She loves you, too," Lex says after a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"I know she didn't say it back, but she loves you," he explains. "I know it."

"How can you tell?"

Lex looks at her. "She called you Rachel," he says. "She wouldn't do that if she didn't."

Rachel's heart cracks in her chest, and she really doesn't know what to say to that. Which is just expounded when Lex adds, "I love you, too," a moment later.

Rachel opens her mouth to reply, and it's the moment everything changes.

The moment their worlds shift inexplicably.

It's one sound, cutting right through the space around them.

A gunshot that strikes one, but affects them all.

* * *

There is a detective asking her something, but Rachel's focus is on Max, who is sitting in Hiram's lap and watching as people bustle about the house and catalog evidence.

Her eyes drift from Max to Lex and Hugo, who are sleep together in an armchair, covered in a blanket and looking restless. She's relieved they're asleep, because they really don't need to be awake for this part.

This part where the reality of the events of the night are really starting to sink in. Rachel doesn't know what really happened, and she's not sure she wants to. All she knows is this night shouldn't have, at all.

"Ms Berry," the detective says, getting her attention. "And then what happened?"

"Huh?"

"After you heard the shot," he clarifies; "what happened?"

Rachel blinks. "Nothing. I don't know. We stayed in the bathroom, exactly as Quinn told us to, and we came out only when - " she stops at the sight of Quinn walking across the room, her shirt still red with blood and her eyes hard. She's following behind another detective, probably going to survey what other damage their intruders caused.

"When..." he prompts.

Rachel looks back at him when Quinn disappears from sight. "What?"

"You came out of the bathroom when..."

"Quinn came to get us."

"This was after the cops arrived?"

Rachel nods. "She wouldn't have come to get us until she was sure it was safe," she says, which is a universal truth about Quinn Fabray.

The detective scribbles something in his notepad, and then leaves her alone. She sits perfectly still for a moment, calming her heart, and then gets to her feet and moves towards Hiram and Max. Max reaches out for her, and she immediately lifts him into her arms, hugging him close. She closes her eyes and just breathes in his baby smell, wishing this nightmare would just end.

She stands there for a slice of forever, only startling when she feels a hand slide up her back and over her shoulder. She keeps her eyes closed, leaning to her right and feeling the strength of Quinn.

"I'm going to take the boys upstairs," Quinn whispers, breath against the side of her head. "Does Max seem like he'll go down?"

Rachel won't admit to not wanting to let him go, so she shakes her head. "Maybe in a little while."

Quinn presses a kiss to her temple and then disappears from her side once more, and Rachel can't bear to see her go. Not again. She closes her eyes again, just standing there and swaying from side-to-side with Max in her arms.

The world continues on around her, the room emptying and the house finally growing quiet of people who aren't supposed to be here.

"Rachel?" Hiram says, his voice cutting into her reverie. "Honey, don't you want to put Max down?"

When her eyes open, she, Hiram and Max are the only people in the room, and everything is so disturbingly quiet. "Where's Quinn?" she asks.

"She's showering," he explains. "The police have left. It's over now."

"Is it?"

Hiram looks into her eyes. "Sweetheart, it _is_ over," he says. "There's nothing more to it."

"How can you say that?" she questions, her voice tense. "She - she almost - Dad, they almost - " Tears spring to her eyes. "I'm in love with her, and I - I almost lost her today, and I can't - I can't - "

Hiram wraps her in a hug, Max sandwiched between them. He doesn't say anything, which she appreciates, because she's not ready to discuss the fact she's in an actual relationship with a woman who her friends seem to hate.

Some more than others, apparently.

Bile rises in her throat, and she shuts her eyes tightly. It _is_ a nightmare, because even she couldn't have predicted tonight ever happening. It's as if it's someone else's life, and she can't help wondering what it would have been like if Rachel and her sons weren't in the house tonight. Those men came here intending to create chaos and possibly hurt Quinn, and they've succeeded, just not the way they anticipated.

Just, would Quinn have responded the same way if there was only one to protect instead of four? She knows she shouldn't be thinking about that, but she can't help it.

"Honey, do you want me to stay?"

Rachel gives it significant thought. If Quinn were anyone else, she would say yes. But, she has Quinn, and Quinn has always been enough.

Hiram seems reluctant to leave, anyway, but she assures him they're going to be okay. She's not sure she believes it, but she still says it, almost sending it into the Universe.

The one silver lining to all of this is that she and the boys didn't actually _see_ anything. Quinn, again, protected them from that. She's practically a superhero at this point.

Eventually, Hiram takes his leave, and Rachel closes the front door, unable to turn the lock, because there is none. It's broken, because the house was broken into.

It's surreal.

Technically, there was a murder in this house, and isn't that a wild thought? She doesn't even know if she'd be scared of anyone else walking through a door that won't lock. What's there to be afraid of when she has Quinn Fabray?

Finally, Rachel goes upstairs to set Max in his crib, tucking his stuffed lamb against his side. She spends a few moments just watching him, and then she checks in on Hugo and Lex, both of them sound asleep in Lex's bed, which Rachel suspects was Quinn's design.

Quinn is standing perfectly still on the carpet of her bedroom when Rachel finally walks through the door, her steps faltering slightly.

It takes her a moment, but she finally moves to stand in front of Quinn, who looks weary and wary. Her hair is dripping water on her shoulders, her eyes red and distant.

She looks wrecked, and Rachel loves her.

"Why do I get the feeling you're mad at me?" Quinn suddenly asks, breaking the silence as she eyes her carefully.

Rachel just stares at her, unable to stop herself from remembering Quinn's quiet voice coming through the door, telling her to open it. And then seeing Quinn there, eyes red with tears and blood on her knees and shirt.

Rachel's heart had stopped at the sight, thinking Quinn was hurt, but the blood wasn't hers. She'd stood, frozen, until Lex ran past her and into his mother's arms, and then Quinn was saying _I'm sorry, Baby Shark; I'm so sorry_, and Rachel didn't figure it out until a coroner was handing Quinn a bloodied dog collar and saying they would contact her about the remains.

God.

Rachel doesn't say anything, because she knows words won't mean anything. Tonight was a fucking disaster. Their first night together and this happens.

This.

Rachel actually feels sick. With remorse and guilt and disgust.

And relief.

Because _Quinn_.

Quinn, who is here, alive and well.

Quinn, who has lost more than just a dog today; a member of her family.

Quinn, who, without Sasha's intervention, would be de -

Rachel stops that train of thought immediately.

Quinn steps towards her, seeking permission, and then wraps her in a hug when Rachel nods. She buries her face in Quinn's neck and just breathes her in. Quinn is solid in her arms, fresh and soft and warm, and _hers_.

Which, well, now everyone knows. Difficult to hide a romantic relationship when Rachel is still wearing Quinn's t-shirt, and the way she held onto her when they finally came downstairs to chaos didn't take a genius to figure it out.

Quinn holds her so gently, entire body wrapped around her, and Rachel loves her. She loves her so much.

Rachel presses a kiss to the skin of her neck, once and twice, and then sucks lightly. Her lips trail upwards to her jaw, over her chin, until she's kissing her mouth and trying to convey something of what she's feeling. She's not sure it works, because she can feel Quinn trembling in her arms and her cheeks are wet with tears she hasn't allowed herself to shed until now.

"Baby, I'm sorry," Rachel whispers against her lips. "I'm so sorry."

Quinn kisses her again, a little more forcefully, and Rachel smooths her hands over Quinn's hair, holding her close and vowing never to let go.

"I'm sorry," Quinn tells her. "I - I tried."

"I know, baby."

"She - she - " her voice catches, and then it happens.

It happens, and it is devastating, Quinn's breakdown, because the truth is that Sasha saved Quinn from a bullet meant for her, and Rachel isn't sure how to feel about the fact the person holding the gun was Noah Puckerman.

Rachel shudders, her hold on Quinn tightening until it hurts them both. Quinn's hands slide under her shirt to touch her skin, and her nails dig in. There's something desperate about the action, and Rachel arches into her, just giving.

"I - I don't know what I would have done if they'd got to you and the boys," Quinn chokes out. "I can't - God, I can't even begin to imagine a world where - " Her sobs are louder now, and Rachel is caught between letting her get it out and reminding her to be quiet in case the boys wake.

So, she kisses her again, her hands sliding over Quinn's upper arms, forearms and to her hands, pressing her palms harder against her own body. "I'm here," she says. "I'm here and you're here and the boys are here. We're safe, Quinn. We're safe."

"There were just so many of them," Quinn says, and Rachel's heart clenches. "I wasn't ready for that, and I really wasn't ready to _recognise_ them."

Rachel still hasn't decided if she actually wants to hear any of this, but Quinn obviously needs to get the words out and she needs to do it now.

"They came to destroy my work," she says quietly. "They came to prove to me there's no way I could do it without them; to send a message with violence, and - and maybe I should have let them." She closes her eyes. "Maybe I should have stayed up here with you guys and just waited for the cops to arrive."

Rachel's hand cups the back of her neck, holding her close. "Quinn, you can't know what could have happened," she says. "For all you know, if you hadn't gone down, they could have come up and found us, and then what?"

Quinn makes a strangled sound. "I put you in danger."

Rachel stiffens. "Don't you dare," she says, and her voice sounds harsh even to her own ears. "Don't you dare, even for one second, think that. Those men who came into what is supposed to be your safe place put us in danger. _Them_. Not you." Her grip tightens on Quinn's neck, almost forcing her to listen. "_You_ have done nothing but protect us, from the moment you met us. It's all you do. It's who you are. How can someone whose very core is to protect have caused any of us harm?"

Quinn is crying again, and they're just standing there on the carpet of her bedroom, and this feels heavy and important and so, so significant.

Rachel kisses her cheek. "Tomorrow, you and Lex are coming to our house to stay," she says, and there isn't a hint of a question in her voice. "I have a pretty comprehensive alarm system," she quietly adds. "And five bedrooms, which I know is excessive, but one is currently my office slash studio." She breathes in. "There's also a pool."

"I don't care about any of that," Quinn says seriously. "I would live in a fucking shoebox, as long as I'm with you."

Rachel kisses her, because there's really nothing else to do.

Quinn kisses her back for a few moments, and then pulls back, resting her forehead against hers. "Can we go to bed now?" she asks.

Rachel just nods, and then moves to crawl into bed, fully aware of the way Quinn watches her every move. She settles on her side of the bed, all while Quinn continues to stand there and stare. Rachel almost says something, but Quinn quite suddenly exits the bedroom, leaving her stumped. It isn't until Quinn returns with a sleeping Hugo that Rachel understands.

Quinn makes two more trips until she finally gets into bed, their boys sandwiched between them, Lex in the middle and Max pressed to Quinn's chest. Just from what Rachel can see, it's unlikely Quinn is going to get any sleep. She looks too tense, wired in a way that makes Rachel reach out to touch her. Her arm goes over the tops of the boys' heads, and she threads her fingers through Quinn's soft hair.

It takes a while, but Quinn eventually looks at her.

"You did good, Quinn," she whispers. "Look at them, baby. Look at your family."

Quinn takes hold of her wrist and kisses her palm, letting her lips linger. The only sound in the room is the steady breathing of three sleeping boys and two women charged with the job of looking after them. It's the most beautiful sound Rachel has ever heard.

Quinn tugs on her hand a little, and Rachel meets her gaze. "I love them," she says. "I love both of them. All of them."

"I know you do," Rachel assures her, because she's never doubted the way Quinn feels about their children.

Quinn's eyes are so soft; her features open. "And I love you, too," she says.

Rachel's breath catches, because, even though she's suspected the truth of it; it still surprises her to hear the words said out loud. "Oh," she breathes, because she was never ready for that confession.

Quinn kisses her hand again. "I love you, Rachel."

There it is again.

Quinn means every word.

* * *

Rachel's prediction is correct, in that Quinn doesn't sleep a wink.

Rachel gives in to exhaustion eventually, and, when she next wakes, Hugo's hair is tickling her nostrils and Lex is spread like a star where Quinn and Max should be. She panics for a long moment before she hears the sound of Max's giggling through the open bedroom door.

Checking over her sleeping boys, she slowly extracts her body, slips into the bathroom to take stock of herself for a few minutes, and then goes in search of Quinn.

She finds her in Lex's room, packing a suitcase of clothing, Max strapped to her front. He's swinging his legs and reaching out for all of Lex's colourful items, and Rachel stands in the doorway just watching them for the longest time.

Quinn eventually notices her when she moves towards the chest of drawers to get some of Lex's socks. Her steps slow to a stop, and her smile is tired. "Hey," she says. "Morning."

"Morning, Quinn," Rachel murmurs. "Hello, Max."

Max bounces a little, arms waving, and Rachel immediately closes the space between them, wrapping both of them in a hug that speaks volumes. Quinn kisses the top of her head and rubs her back, massages her shoulders and tickles her neck, all in quick succession, as if she just never wants to stop touching her.

"What have you been doing?" Rachel asks her, pulling back a little and gently tickling Max's feet.

"Cleaning," Quinn says. "Packing. Planning."

Rachel tucks some hair behind her ear. "And, what do you have planned?"

"You know I'm yours, right?"

The words are unexpected, but she manages to nod. "I know," she says. "You're mine, and I'm yours, and - "

"I want nothing more than to be with you," Quinn says. "If you'll have me."

"Of course, Quinn," she says. "What are you saying?"

Quinn leans forward to kiss her, sandwiching Max between them. "I love you," she says.

Rachel holds onto her. "You love me."

"So damn much."

Rachel kisses her this time. "What can I do to help? I'm assuming you want to get out of here as soon as possible."

Quinn looks away for a moment. "I shouldn't want to, but I really just don't want to be here anymore," she confesses. "It's supposed to be my home; where we're supposed to be safe, and now it's just this house that was violated and where a member of my family was taken."

Rachel's fists tighten on her shirt. "We'll go," she says. "We'll go, and we'll figure out the rest, okay?"

Quinn nods, her expression a little stoic. "Okay."

Rachel kisses her once more, and then they get moving.

They're actually able to pack everything they could need, because all Lex and Quinn truly _need_ is their clothes, toiletries, toys and books.

From what Rachel sees of the downstairs, Quinn cleaned up as best she could, setting up a tarp over the crime scene so the boys won't see. Rachel isn't sure when they'll be back, so she cleans out the fridge of perishables while Quinn loads up her _Volvo_ and Rachel's _Tiguan_ with suitcases and boxes.

When Lex and Hugo finally get up, Quinn gets them packing the few trinkets in the house Lex wants to take with, still in their pyjamas, and then they load up themselves as Rachel finishes up with making sure the windows are locked.

Quinn does a final sweep of the house, and Rachel leaves her to it, realising it's something she needs to do alone. They haven't been in the house long enough to form a long-lasting attachment, but Rachel can tell it's affected Quinn in a way even Quinn doesn't understand.

When Quinn walks out of the house, she has Sasha's collar and leash hanging limply in her right hand, and Rachel's heart hurts from where she's already seated in her driver's seat. Quinn walks to the garage and tests the door, making sure her _Mustang_ is locked away and secure. Rachel knows Quinn already switched off all the lights bar the front porch one and turned off the hot water.

For whatever reason, Rachel knows they're never going to live in this house again.

That's fine.

They were planning for living together, anyway.

Now, it'll just be official.

Rachel watches as Quinn climbs into her car, which she's packed to the brim, which is also why all the children are with her. Lex and Max are in the back, and Hugo is looking far too chuffed at being able to sit up front.

Rachel waits until Quinn gives her the signal that she's ready, and then she pulls out of the driveway. She glances in her rearview mirror to see Quinn doing the same, and she checks on Lex while she's still looking.

His expression is unreadable. There were a lot of tears earlier, and he clung to Quinn from the moment Rachel opened the door until he fell asleep, so she's worried about how he's going to handle it when the reality sets in that Sasha is gone.

For now, she drives home with her family in tow, and that's her focus.

It doesn't take too long until she's pulling into her own driveway, parking behind LeRoy's car. Her fathers are sitting on the front steps, waiting to help them offload and offer hugs and gentle smiles.

Quinn doesn't pull in until half an hour later, and she has takeaway pancakes a plenty from Rose's Diner, which is a relief, because Rachel isn't sure any of them were even thinking about breakfast.

The problem, Rachel finds, is that she, the kids and her fathers all sit to eat while Quinn continues unloading her car and setting everything in the front room and dining room to be sorted through later.

Rachel can't even bring herself to eat, because she knows what Quinn is doing. She knows Quinn is isolating herself, almost punishing herself for something. For this.

As if she's the reason she's just uprooted herself and her son; the reason Sasha is no longer here.

Rachel forces down a few mouthfuls, and then sends Hiram a very significant look. He nods once, and then proceeds to steal the kids' collective attention with a story about a trip to Paris he and LeRoy went on some years ago, allowing Rachel to slip away unnoticed.

She finds Quinn in the dining room, sitting on a small box, her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking.

Rachel aches.

God, she aches for her woman.

She moves to kneel in front of Quinn, hands on her thighs. Quinn startles at the contact, and her head snaps up, eyes wet with tears and mouth set in a thin line.

"I'm so tired," Quinn whispers.

"I know, Baby," Rachel says, shuffling forward and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "I know."

Quinn hasn't slept, Rachel knows, and she's been running non-stop since Rachel woke her with panic in her eyes. Her body has to be complaining, after going through such a physical and emotional last twelve hours.

"We're safe here," Rachel assures her. "I'm safe, and the boys are safe. My parents are here. I'm here. You can rest now."

Quinn starts to shake her head, but Rachel stops her, holding the sides of her face.

"You're allowed to sleep," she says. "You did your duty."

Quinn closes her eyes, and Rachel's convinced she would fall asleep right there if she could.

It's a miracle she doesn't, and Rachel just about manages to get her upstairs and into her bed, tucking her in and sitting with her until she finally gives in to her own exhaustion.

It's Rachel's turn to be the protector.

* * *

The day, itself, is lazy.

Hiram and LeRoy stick around until after lunch, which they cook with Lex and Hugo, and Quinn remains hidden away until Lex goes to get her.

Nobody bothers to change out of their pyjamas, and they spend the day watching movies and playing board games. Rachel has to reject a few phone calls, people obviously having heard stories of what possibly happened in the nighttime.

Rachel knows they'll have to talk about it as a family at some point; maybe even see a trauma counsellor to deal with it properly, but today is a day for processing.

When her fathers leave, packing leftovers in the fridge for dinner and reminding her they're just a call away, Rachel sets Max down for his nap while Lex and Hugo tuck themselves away in Hugo's bedroom with Lex's comic books.

It gives her a moment alone with Quinn, who is seated on the couch in the living room, phone to her ear as she talks to Louisa. Rachel grabs her own phone from the mantle and moves to settle beside her; against her.

Quinn wraps an arm around her shoulders, saying, "No, you don't need to come here," into the phone. "We're staying with Randy, now. I'm not sure what's next, Blue. We'll figure it out." She sighs. "I know. I'll tell her, and yeah, I'll tell him. I'm trying. Say hi to the girls. Love you, too."

Quinn hangs up, leans back and says nothing. There's a quiet that exists between them, no words necessary, and Rachel is content to sit here for as long as Quinn needs her.

It's maybe twenty minutes later, when Rachel is in the middle of reading an email from one of the producers she routinely works with in New York when Quinn quietly says, "Lou suggested the gun."

Rachel freezes.

"She was so worried about Baby and I living alone, and she's been so determined to make sure I could look after myself in any situation. We worked on various defensive measures, and the gun range was a regular visit for us. She needed to be sure that my threat level outweighed my target level. Apparently, there's something about a single mother that makes me look as if I would be easy pickings." She clenches her jaw. "Tack on the fact I'm gay, anything can happen. So, I needed to be prepared, and I was."

Rachel watches her face carefully.

"I keep it locked away, obviously, out of reach, and I've never had a reason to use it." She looks down at her lap. "Any skirmishes were always easily resolved with a well-timed bark from Sasha." Her eyes tear up. "Lou pulled some strings to get her. Usually, they - they do other things with retired police dogs, but we had a home to offer and she needed one. She took to us really quickly, and I - I loved her, you know? She was a part of our family, and I can't - can't even _stand_ the thought of what could have happened if she wasn't there."

That's also something Rachel hasn't allowed herself to think about too much. She looks at Quinn now, and her blonde is here and alive and physically unhurt. Sasha deserves the highest place in Dog Heaven for that.

"I had a gun, Rach," she whispers; "and even that wasn't enough of a weapon. I didn't even have time to draw it before it escalated to something ugly." She glances away. "They - they were just so angry, and I could tell they were drunk, but - but - all I kept thinking that there was me, and there was Sasha, and we were the only two keeping them from destroying our home and destroying our family. It's - it's as if she knew that; somehow, she just understood it. She understood that there was no way they were getting to you, and we would put our bodies on the line, if necessary, and so she did.

"She did, so I wouldn't have to."

Rachel hugs her tightly, burying her face in her neck and just breathing her in. There's so much that still needs to be cleared up, and she's sure they're going to have to speak to the police again, but she's content to keep her family locked away in this house until they're ready to face the world, once more.

Her phone buzzes again, but she ignores it in favour of attempting to crawl right into Quinn's skin. She feels Quinn's arm close around her, urging her closer, and she reads the action for what it is, as she lifts herself up and straddles Quinn's lap.

"I love you," Rachel murmurs, trailing her lips along Quinn's neck and over her jaw. "I don't know what you need to hear from me, to make you believe you did and have always done everything in your capabilities to keep us safe."

Quinn leans her head back, her eyes closing and her hands resting on Rachel's hips. The action gives Rachel even better access to her neck, and she doesn't waste a second leaning in and nipping at her skin. Quinn sighs helplessly, her body relaxing, practically sinking into the couch.

"I love you," Rachel says again. "The boys love you. Lou, Jane and Christine love you. My fathers barely know you, and I'm sure they love you more than they love me."

Quinn puffs out an amused breath, moaning softly when Rachel sucks on her pulse point. "Rach," she breathes, asking her for something.

Whatever it is, Rachel is going to give it to her.

* * *

Ignoring her phone proves to be a terrible idea when Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Blaine and their children all show up on her doorstep an hour later. She's just managed to get Quinn to agree to catch a nap, Lex and Hugo climbing into Rachel's California King with her, when the doorbell rings.

And rings and rings.

Rachel rushes to get it, Max stumbling around her ankles. She peeks through the side window and feels tense all over again. The absolute last thing she needs is an inquiry, but she knows they won't leave, and she really doesn't need them creating even more of a ruckus for her sleeping family.

With a sigh, Rachel opens the door.

"Oh, thank God," Santana says at the sight of her. "What the hell? Why haven't you been answering your phone? The whole town is going mental with rumours a plenty. We thought you were hurt."

Rachel says nothing, just stepping back and letting the foursome and mini-threesome into the house. She needs to close the door and lock it. For some reason, she suspects Quinn will be able to tell if a person can get into the house.

She hangs back, unsure how she feels about all of this, while they get settled in the living room.

Camila, Norah and Georgia descend on Max's toys, distracting themselves, and Max floats among them, mesmerised by their hair and laughter.

"What on earth happened last night?" Kurt asks, breaking into Rachel's thoughts. "Why would I be getting a call from Finn, asking me to bail him out of _jail_?"

Rachel hardens at the sound of his name, and she forces herself to sit in an actual chair, settling on the edge of one of the armchairs. "Did you?" she asks.

"Did I what?"

"Bail him out?"

Kurt frowns. "Of course I did," he says. "He's my brother."

Rachel shifts in her seat. "Do you even know why he was in jail?"

Kurt hesitates. "He said it was a misunderstanding," he says. "A prank gone wrong."

"A prank gone wrong," she echoes, feeling sick to her stomach.

"What happened?" Blaine asks.

"What have you heard?" she asks, instead of answering his question.

"We heard there was a break-in," Brittany says. "At Quinn's house. But, you were there?"

"Yeah, what's that about?" Santana asks, scowling. "What were you even doing over there?"

"I was sleeping," she answers flatly.

"Why?"

"That's usually what people do at night," she says.

Santana frowns. "Okay... but why were you sleeping _over there_?"

Rachel sighs. "The boys and I had a sleepover," she says, sighing heavily. "It seems that our supposed _friends_ decided it was going to be the same night they break in and terrorise us."

"Oh," Kurt says. "That's what Finn meant when he said 'She wasn't supposed to be there.' He was talking about you."

Rachel frowns, her senses prickling. "Would that be the only reason his supposed _prank_ would be wrong?"

"Of course not," Kurt says primly. "I'm just saying it makes his words make sense. I was confused before."

"Didn't he tell you anything else?" she asks, her tone icy. "I mean, I'm sure you've heard _all_ the stories, right?"

Maybe it's the slight accusation in Rachel's voice - though, what she's accusing them of, nobody quite knows - but it all derails awfully quickly. There's an odd mocking quality to Santana's voice, as if she doesn't want to understand or quite grasp the magnitude of just what happened. It gets even worse when Kurt mentions that Finn said something about a stupid dog, and Rachel's hackles rise.

Though, it really hits its worst point when they ask Rachel to convince Quinn against pursuing action against Noah, Finn, Bruno, Jake and T, claiming that they were drunk and didn't know what they were doing, and Rachel _finally_ loses it.

It's been slow coming, but this is the moment.

"Stop it," Rachel suddenly snaps, and the whole room freezes. "Stop talking about it as if it's some joke. Because it's not. It was terrifying, and someone died, for God's sake. It doesn't matter that the someone was a dog, because that damn bullet was meant for Quinn. Don't you get it? Don't you see?

"Noah - _Noah_ \- could have _killed_ her. He came into a house with children in it with a loaded gun, and for what? A couple of hundred bucks? Because she knew to say no? Because she refused to bend to men's entitlement?" She closes her eyes to try to calm herself. "There is nothing you can say to me that could ever justify what those men did, and, if that's the reason you're still here, you can get the hell out of my house and away from my family."

Her words are met with silence, and none of them is quite able to recover quickly enough.

"Rachel?" a small voice calls, and Rachel's head snaps to the side to see Lex standing on the bottom step, rubbing his eyes of sleep and his hair a mess. He's just woken up, obviously, and she knows he seeks physical comfort when he does.

She waves a hand. "Come here, Baby Shark," she says, smiling when he scrambles across the wood floors with his bare feet and practically crawls into her lap. She wraps arms around him and kisses his hair, soothing him into full wakefulness.

When she looks up again, four pairs of wide eyes are staring at her. Well.

Lex snuggles against her, turning his head to look at the other four adults in the room. "Hello," he says, his tone careful and still a little sleepy.

Brittany blinks at him, recovering first. "Hello," she says, managing a smile. "You must be Quinn's son."

"Lex," he says. "My name is Lex."

Brittany nods, her smile a little more genuine. "Hello, Lex," she says. "I'm Brittany. This is my wife, Santana, and those are our daughters, Camila and Norah. That's Kurt, his husband Blaine, and their daughter, Georgia."

Lex turns his head, taking in the faces and committing the names to memory. "Are you also here to hurt Mommy?" he asks, and Rachel aches. God, the way she hurts so much in this moment.

None of the adults know what to say to him, and Rachel uses the opportunity to do what she's vowed to do: protect her family.

"I think it's time for you to leave," she says, her voice steady and stern, because this is something she can demand within her own home, with her own family.

To their credit - which, given the way the conversation was going, anyway, doesn't mean much - there isn't a fight. It's probably Lex's presence, his eyes searching, even as he holds onto Rachel.

Santana tells her, "We're not finished talking about this," on her way out, and Rachel can't help thinking _yes, we are_.

* * *

In the morning, Rachel makes the suggestion, not sure what to expect.

It's something she's been thinking about even before the break-in, and she feels a little more comfortable bringing it up now, knowing that Quinn is as in this as she is. This is a forever kind of relationship they're dealing with here, and Rachel is determined to keep them as on track as she can.

"Maybe we should get out of here for a little while," Rachel suggests over coffee the next morning. "Take a trip, just the five of us, to clear our heads and distract ourselves from all of this."

Quinn regards her carefully, searching for something. "Where did you have in mind?"

Rachel nibbles her bottom lip for a moment. "Well, I actually need to make a trip to New York before the end of the summer. I think it will be good for you and Lex to see Louisa and Jane, and New Haven isn't too far from the city."

Quinn's head tilts to the side slightly, her eyes studying her.

Rachel blinks. "What?"

"Nothing," Quinn says as she stands from her stool and moves into Rachel's space. "I just love you, is all."

Rachel's neck stretches to be able to keep her eyes locked on Quinn's.

"I also love the way you love me."

Rachel slides her hand along Quinn's stomach, quietly marvelling at the hard muscles she feels. Words seem unnecessary in this moment, so she just holds Quinn's gaze, silently translating her deep, deep feelings.

Quinn bends to kiss her forehead. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Quinn twirls a strand of Rachel's hair around her finger. "Okay," she repeats; "Let's go somewhere. Just you, me and our boys."

Rachel grips the front of her shirt and pulls her down for a kiss.

How else is she supposed to react to that?

* * *

Just when Rachel thinks she's got used to what it's like to be in a relationship with Quinn, the woman surprises her - again. Rachel expects to be the one to plan their trip alone - because she usually is - but Quinn comes back to her later in the evening with potential date suggestions and a certain spark in her eye at the thought of being able to _surprise_ Louisa and Jane.

Beyond her own surprise, Rachel is quite chuffed with herself for helping put it there.

Quinn settles onto the couch beside her, the boys doing goodness knows what in Hugo's room upstairs and Max playing on his mat on the floor in front of them. She lifts her left arm to rest on the back of the couch, and Rachel automatically moves into the space, leaning against her. "I think this is the best idea you've ever had."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

Quinn kisses her cheek. "Well, there _is_ that thing you do with your tongue that is probably a close second."

Despite herself, Rachel actually blushes, gently slapping Quinn's abdomen and letting her hand rest there. "When are you thinking of going?"

"We can leave even tomorrow," Quinn suggests.

The idea is appealing, even though it's probably not realistic. Getting everything together in such a short time is slightly unfeasible at this moment. "We can leave on Thursday," she says. "Spend the weekend enjoying New York, and then I can do what work I need to do on Monday while you visit Louisa and Jane, and then maybe we can have them over at some point, and then we fly home on Thursday again, giving us enough time to get the boys ready for the start of school on Monday."

Quinn puffs out a breath. "I've actively not been thinking about that," she admits. "What am I supposed to do with my days when they're not around?"

Rachel kisses her cheek. "I'm quite certain you'll think of something," she says.

Quinn nuzzles her temple. "Have you decided if you're going to take the job?"

Rachel licks her lips. "I - yeah, I think I'm going to take it," she says, not sounding particularly convincing. "Is - is that okay?"

Quinn shifts back a little to look at her properly. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Rachel frowns, momentarily confused my Quinn's question. "Wouldn't you want a say?" she asks, because everyone does.

"Are you asking for my advice?" Quinn asks.

Rachel isn't, but she nods anyway.

"Is this what you want to do?" Quinn asks.

"I - I don't know," she admits. "It's what everyone thinks I _should_ do."

"Forget about everyone else for a minute," Quinn says, waving a hand. "This is about what _you_ want, and the question I'm asking is do you want to teach at William McKinley?"

When put that way, the answer is simple and Rachel says, "No."

Quinn nods. "Okay," she says. "What _do_ you want to do?"

"I don't know."

"Of course you do," Quinn counters, her expression serious. "You know exactly what you want to do, so tell me. If you could do whatever you want, what would you do?"

"But, I can't."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Quinn says. "Tell me. Deep in your heart, what do you want to do?"

Rachel can't say it out loud, because she knows it's impossible. There's no way. It'll just hurt to put it into the Universe and not have it come true. She's given up so much already; she doesn't think -

"Rachel," Quinn says, her voice serious. "Tell me."

"I want Broadway," she blurts. "God, I want it so badly, Quinn. I want to be on stage. I want to perform every night. I want to be under the New York lights. And I know it's selfish to want it, and I know it's impossible, but I want it. I really, really want it."

Quinn doesn't say anything for a long, long time, and Rachel thinks she's said something wrong. It's unfair to want more, right? Brody always made her feel guilty for going to auditions, and her friends used to seesaw between trying to get her to go out with them and then making her question her decision to leave her kid behind.

Working at McKinley would be a stable job and income. She would be good at it and she would be doing good work. It's the simple solution here. What else could she possibly do in Lima?

"Okay," Quinn suddenly says, interrupting Rachel's thoughts.

"What?"

Quinn nods her head once. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Quinn cocks her head to the side. "We can do that."

"Excuse me?"

"We can go to New York," Quinn says. "It'll be a little rushed, of course. One of us would have to come back and sort things out here while the other gets things set up there, but we can do this."

Rachel's convinced she's dreaming, because there's no way Quinn is oh-so-casually agreeing to move to New York. With her, no less. There's no way. It's impossible.

"We'll need a place to live," Quinn continues. "A good school for the boys, a - "

"Quinn," Rachel says, her tone a little sharp.

Quinn stops talking.

"Please tell me you're not being serious."

She says nothing, because she obviously can't tell Rachel that.

"Quinn?"

"I'm being serious," she says instead, and her tone of voice definitely suggests it. "If this is truly something you want, then you should get to be able to have it."

"But - but, we can't just pick up and move to New York," she points out. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"Quinn, you forget that I've lived in New York," she says. "I've struggled through it, and, in the end I couldn't do it. I couldn't, so I came back here, tail between my legs. We _can't._"

"Things are different now," Quinn tells her.

"How?" she questions, because this woman has maybe lost her damn mind. "How are things so different now that it'll all just magically work this time around?"

"Simple," Quinn says. "This time, you have me."


	15. XV

**XV**

Convincing Rachel to follow her dreams takes a lot more out of Quinn than she initially expects. They talk about it all night, Quinn going in circles trying to help Rachel alleviate whatever hangups or fears she has about returning to New York.

There's something in her words and reasons that makes Quinn uncomfortable. As if someone or something has planted itself in Rachel's mind and convinced her she would be a bad mother for wanting to pursue the career of her dreams.

"I can't do it, Quinn," Rachel says for the umpteenth time, and Quinn wishes she would stop. She also wishes she could get some sleep, but this is a never-ending conversation and it's better they hash it out while the children are still asleep.

"Why not?"

"It's irresponsible, for starters," Rachel says. "It wouldn't be fair to uproot everyone just for - "

"You," Quinn says. "Why won't you let us do this thing for _you_?"

"I'm not asking you to."

"I know," Quinn says carefully. "I know you're not asking; that's why I'm offering. There's nothing for me and Lucas here other than you and the boys. We'll go where you go. We'll be what you need. Baby, you can have what you want. Please let me give it to you."

Rachel can barely look at her. "Quinn."

Quinn shifts until she's on her knees on Rachel's bed, resting her bottom on her heels. Her gaze is imploring, silently begging Rachel to listen and understand. "If you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't want this because _you don't want it_, I'll drop it right here, right now," she says. "I love you, and I love your sons. I think, without making light of the shit we've been through, that I would do just about anything for you. Let me do this. You shouldn't have to give up anything else."

"What about you?" Rachel asks. "What about what you have to give up?"

"What am I giving up, Rach?" she asks. "Look at me. The most important things in my life are in this house right now, and they all have beating hearts." She lifts her arms. "A house is just a house, and my job can be done anywhere. I'm giving up nothing but an address."

"What about Lex?" she asks.

"The most we'll have to worry about is dealing with a second sudden geographical change in as many months," she says. "The house was never given the chance to be his home. He hasn't even started school yet, and I can assure you he would jump at the opportunity to live in New York with his favourite people." Quinn reaches for Rachel's closest hand, bringing it into her lap. "Tell me what's really bothering you. Just tell me. I promise I can handle it if you tell me this isn't something you want to do _with me._"

"It's not that," Rachel immediately says. "There's nobody else I would rather do this with."

"Then what is it?"

Rachel doesn't say anything for a long, long time, and Quinn sits there and waits as patiently as she can manage. She yawns a handful of times and she shifts her position to sit cross-legged, her legs tingling.

What feels like hours later, Rachel finally speaks. "What if it goes wrong?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if - what if we get there and it all falls apart?"

"What if it doesn't?"

"It has before."

"Tell me what happened."

Rachel sighs. "I took a semester off when Hugo was born," she says. "It seemed like the best thing to do at the time. We all needed time to adjust to a new baby, and - " she stops and shakes her head. "I almost didn't go back to school. I didn't know how I could ever do it, you know? It was already so hard just living in New York with a baby, and my degree was so demanding, but - "

"But what?"

"They promised me they would be there," Rachel says. "They promised I wouldn't ever have to do it alone, and I believed them."

"Who?"

"Santana, and Kurt," she says. "Brody was always so flaky, coming in and out. He wasn't reliable for the most part, always saying that he had a career to pursue if he wanted to support us, and - and I believed all of them. I believed them, and now you're asking me to do it again."

Quinn closes her eyes, so she doesn't have to see the lingering devastation in Rachel's eyes.

"Because then they left," she says, and it sounds as if it hurts her. "I can't begrudge them that, of course, because they have their own lives, but they promised they would be there, and then Santana came to Lima. Then Kurt, and I was left in New York to struggle with a toddler." She swallows. "It was hard, Quinn. It was really, really hard, and I - I let Brody back in."

"Oh, baby."

"It was a wrong choice," she says. "I just keep making them."

"Rach, no."

"In the end, I was with him out of necessity, and I can't stand the thought of that happening to us," she says. "I don't want us to do this thing, and have it fall apart and then have you resent me for dragging you across the country and leaving you with no options." She pauses. "I don't want to trap you."

And, suddenly, Quinn understands that Brody must have said those exact words to her. "I'm going to kill him," she declares, entirely too seriously.

Rachel just shakes her head. "When I found out I was pregnant again, I knew there was no way I could stay," she says. "I didn't even need Brody's reaction to know he wasn't going to be more of a father to Max than he ever was to Hugo. I - I couldn't do it alone, so I came home. I came home, and, even here, I can't fucking do it without them, and they know it - even my parents - and they hold it over me, because I'm the idiot who's alone and not with the perfect spouse who would - "

"Hey," Quinn says, stopping her tirade and leaning forward to wrap her arms around her. "Listen to me, okay? Hear these words and please, please believe them." She pauses. "Your friends are fucking assholes."

Rachel lets out an unexpected laugh.

"Also, you've been dating far too many dickheads."

Rachel snuggles into her.

"I just want you to know that I am willing to do this with you," she says. "I mean, it might even work out better, because Lindsey is in New York, and she would love to have me close enough to breathe down my neck. Also, New Haven is considerably closer to NYC, which means we could see Blue and Jonny more often. It all works out."

Rachel shifts back, looking pensive.

"What?"

"Why don't you refer to Lindsey by some kind of nickname?"

Quinn frowns, sufficiently caught off guard. "Uh, because she's an asshole, and I tend to hate her more than I like her."

"Oh."

Quinn chuckles. "She's not special, Cherry," she says. "She's my annoying literary agent, who's been on my case about edits for weeks now. I'm pretty sure I called her a sadistic bitch in my last email."

"Quinn," she gasps.

Quinn kisses her, soft and sweet. "And plus, I have enough people in my life whose name start with L to stay creative."

Rachel's expression doesn't lose its thoughtfulness as she asks, "What about Blair?"

Quinn stiffens. "What about her?"

"Did she have nicknames too?"

Quinn licks her lips. "Not in the beginning, no," she says. "Eventually, she did."

"Do - have - I - "

Quinn kisses her again. "I promise I have never used a name on you that I did on her," she assures her.

Rachel puffs out a breath. "Why do you always just know what to say?"

Quinn shrugs. "Because I know you," she says. "I know you, and I love you, and I want to make you happy."

Rachel rests her forehead on Quinn's shoulder. "Can I think about it?"

"Of course," Quinn says. "I would tell you to take all the time you need, but we do have a bit of a tight schedule."

Rachel laughs softly, relaxing against Quinn. "I love you."

"I know," Quinn says. "Now, _please_ can we get some sleep."

* * *

Planning for New York City gives Quinn something to think about; something to focus on other than the way her life has changed just in the last few days. Rachel hasn't explicitly agreed to the move, but Quinn suspects she will, so she needs to be ready.

She goes through the checklist she made when making the move from New Haven to Lima, except there's more to it.

More parts to consider.

Just more.

Despite her exhaustion, Quinn still goes in to the police station to go over her statement and ensure the police and prosecutors are planning to pursue. She won't stand for anything less.

Next, she has to steel herself for the moment she picks up Sasha's ashes. She's still not sure what they're going to do with them, but Sasha deserves something special. Maybe they'll even take her with them to New York.

Next, Quinn visits a real estate agent. Her intention is to put her house on the market, even with the destroyed kitchen, and she's fully willing to price it to sell. She feels a little guilty wanting to get rid of her grandmother's house, but there's no way she'll be able to live in it again.

Maybe she should rent it out instead.

At least, that's what Viola says, which would require Quinn to fix up the damaged kitchen, and she's not sure she's willing to do that.

"Well, you've given me a lot to think about," she says, which is true. It's just another thing to tick off on her 'Move to New York' Checklist.

There's the bank next, the post office, the hardware store (of course) and the grocery store before she heads back to Rachel's house.

To find utter chaos.

She pulls into the driveway to find several people standing on the front lawn, yelling at one another. They notice her arrival, and Quinn feels her entire body grow tense when she sees Rachel standing there, alone, facing off against her friends.

_Friends_.

Quinn scoffs as she opens her door and climbs out, suddenly irritated with these people who are supposed to be Rachel's people. The woman she loves definitely deserves better, and Quinn is determined to show her exactly what that is.

Rachel looks nervous when Quinn approaches, as if she thinks she's done something wrong. Quinn can't think of anything that would warrant that, so she suppresses her desire to ask questions and moves to stand at Rachel's side, presenting a united front.

Rachel seems to relax at the move, which was always Quinn's intention.

"Quite the scene we have going on here, huh," Quinn says to all of them, frowning rather deeply. "Anyone want to fill me in as to why we're having a screaming match on the front lawn?"

Rachel touches her wrist, trying to get her not to antagonise or worsen the situation.

Quinn sighs. "Seriously, what's going on?"

"What's going on is there's no way we're letting Rachel go back to New York," Santana says quite harshly, and Quinn raises her eyebrows.

"Letting?" she murmurs, more to herself than anything.

Rachel's grip tightens on Quinn. "I called them," she whispers, explaining the situation to Quinn. "I wanted - I needed to discuss it with - I just had to talk it out with someone who wasn't - "

"Me," Quinn finishes for her. "It's okay."

Rachel blinks in surprise, as if she was expecting more anger. "It - it wasn't meant to get so out of hand."

"Why has it got so out of hand?" Quinn asks them all, but she's looking at Rachel. Her eyes, always on Rachel.

"Uh, they don't want me to go back to New York," Rachel says, her voice small.

"At all?" Quinn asks.

"With you," Santana answers, her gaze hard. "I mean, who the hell do you think you are? Just coming in here and - "

"And what?" Quinn asks, genuinely curious. "Giving her more options? Giving her the chance to be more than this town? Reminding her just how wonderful and capable she is? Nurturing her talent instead of making her feel guilty for it? Making sure she knows she has the world at her feet? Believing in her? Trusting her? Lov - " she stops quite suddenly.

But Santana still catches the slip, and she decides to run with it, her facial expression turning a little feral. "Oh, I get it," she snarks. "You _like_ her, and this is, what, some elaborate plan to get her all to yourself, in a different state, and, what, attempt to seduce her? That's - "

"Santana!" Rachel snaps quite suddenly. "That's enough."

"Don't you see what's happening?" Santana presses. "She obviously just wants to get into your pants."

Quinn says nothing, and Rachel seems to use merely her presence to step in front of her, almost shielding her.

If this moment is anything to go by, there's a certain shift that occurs within Rachel. It is sudden, and it is beautiful.

"Santana," Rachel says, her voice surprisingly steady. "I was in New York with someone else who wanted nothing more than to 'get into my pants.' What makes Quinn so different from Brody, huh?"

Santana frowns. "What?"

"I needed to talk to you all about this," Rachel says. "I've wanted to talk to you about my life and my career for so long, but - but the idea that I want more than this life you're all so happily settled into is something you never want to discuss." She sighs. "I was never meant for Lima, and you know it just as well as I do."

"And, yet, this is where you ended up," Kurt says, and Quinn hates him. Positively loathes him.

"Like the rest of you, right?" Rachel says, and it sounds as if she's caught on to something very important. "You failed to make it work, so it only makes sense that I did, too. I should give up on my dreams, because so have the lot of you." It's almost as if she's working it all out in her head, just coming to terms with the way her friends seem so reluctant to see her succeed. Why they've always been so content with the idea of her returning to Lima, and staying and taking up the job they jokingly left for her.

Because _they_ did.

Because they're not brave enough to try again.

Because their spouses are keeping them here.

Because they aren't as talented as her.

Because they're content, and it seems they expect her to be, too.

Because they don't have someone like Quinn, who is willing to push and follow and encourage and help and love.

Some kind of realisation seems to pass through Rachel's body, and Quinn steps back. This isn't a battle she's meant to fight. It's all Rachel's, as it's always been.

It strikes Quinn, then, that one of the main reasons Rachel has been holding herself back is _Rachel_.

This is also the moment Rachel realises it, and it is stunning.

Quinn almost tunes out then, her eyes rather focused on the line of Rachel's glorious neck, her muscles tense and her voice firm. She's gorgeous, and Quinn has the sudden urge to tug her into her arms and sink her teeth into her skin; to lick and taste.

She's forced into attention when Rachel takes a sudden step back, Santana and Kurt doing the same.

Oh.

It's over.

At least, for Rachel, it is.

"Well, don't come crawling back when it all falls apart again," Santana snaps, looking frustrated and angry and maybe a lot hurt. "When she leaves you high and dry, who are you going to have then? If you do this, you'll have nobody."

Quinn pinches the fabric of Rachel's blouse between her fingers, grounding them both. If Rachel can actually feel it, Quinn doesn't know.

_I'm not going anywhere_, Quinn says in her head, wondering if Rachel can hear the silent words. _I'm not going to leave you._

Rachel must hear her, because she squares her shoulders and says, "That used to scare me so much." She pauses, thoughtful and a little teary. "I guess I've figured out being alone isn't the worst thing in the world." She reaches blindly behind her, and Quinn slips her hand into the offered one. "Good thing I'm not, though."

Santana glares at them both.

It's over, now.

There's still so much to figure out, but Quinn keeps her hand solid in Rachel's, making sure she knows she's not alone.

Kurt and Santana leave then, huffing and shooting daggers at them both.

"At least I didn't get tackled this time," Quinn eventually says when they're completely out of sight, just her and Rachel left on the front lawn.

Rachel turns around to look at her, tears in her eyes but a soft smile on her face. Quinn realises maybe this was what Rachel needed. She needed to know their reaction, assess the way they would deal with the news, determine if they would still support her, and now she knows.

She knows, and now she's looking at Quinn as if she hangs the moon.

Quinn has never been looked at that way.

"What?" she asks, suddenly shy.

"I love you," Rachel says.

Quinn feels a little bemused, and she probably looks it, too. "Okay."

Rachel reaches for her, her hands making grabbing actions, and Quinn steps into her space, like a magnet drawn to her opposite pole. "Quinn," Rachel says, sounding very serious.

"Roberta."

Rachel rolls her eyes, and then lifts herself up to kiss Quinn's lips. "I love you," she says again.

"I love you, too," Quinn returns, simply because there's no other response, is there?

"So," Rachel muses, her right hand trailing along Quinn's left side. "I have a question for you."

"I'm listening."

Rachel meets her gaze, steady and sure. "When do we leave?"

* * *

Sunday, apparently.

It gives them around week to get the boys settled in before school is scheduled to start. Well, first they need to get Hugo and Lex into a school. And, really, where are they going to live?

Rachel tells her she has a place in Brooklyn, but it's only a two-bedroom apartment, which doesn't really bode well for a growing family. It makes no sense spending the first few months there, and then having to move again.

So, Quinn sets out to find them a house, once they pick a suburb to live in, and Rachel takes the responsibility of getting everything else sorted out.

"A suburb," Rachel says, wincing a little.

Quinn laughs. "It's all Baby and I have known," she says, using one hand to scroll through listings on her laptop and the other to rub Max's tummy gently where he's fallen asleep on the couch cushion beside her. "I think it'll be better for our family."

Rachel sighs from where she's pressed against Quinn's other side, her knees lifted to balance her own laptop. "Don't try to get your way, just because you know how I swoon when you say 'our family.'"

Quinn presses a kiss to the back of her head. "I just think Scarsdale is the best place for us," she says. "It has good schools. It's safe. Westchester County is along Broadway, so, if that's not a sign, I don't know what is. We can have our cars. We can maybe get some pets. We'll have neighbours, but they won't be on top of us. It'll be more of a community. It'll be different, but not too much."

"Quinn," Rachel sighs. "I love this picture you're painting for us, but this is a huge undertaking. This is a forever home you're talking about here. And, God, how on earth are we supposed to afford anything in the area?"

When Quinn can't think of a suitable response, Rachel turns her head and torso to look at her.

"Quinn?"

She clears her throat, momentarily looking away. "We can afford it."

Rachel eyes her critically. "Is - is this the moment you tell me you're secretly a millionaire and that you flip houses and wear stupid denim shorts for fun?"

Quinn says nothing.

"Oh, my God."

"It's - it's - look, it's not a big deal or anything," she says, her voice a little high. "I mean, I have a Trust Fund, and my grandmother's inheritance, and, I mean, I'm kind of a successful author, and Lindsey's pushing for the TV series, so, I mean, technically, we can live wherever we want to."

Rachel just stares at her. "This is - I don't even - can we just - " she stops and sighs. "Can we take a timeout, please? Just for a few minutes. You're kind of blowing my mind a little bit right now."

Quinn kisses her. "Well, I could be blow - "

"Don't even finish that sentence."

Quinn just kisses again, because it's really, really apparent they haven't been any kind of intimate since the night of nightmares. Not that they're going to get that carried away right now. Quinn just wants her to know she's desired, always. Every second of every day.

Rachel ends the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into Quinn's eyes. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I want you, and I want our family," Quinn declares. "I want us to be safe and happy, comfortable and settled. I want to give you the world."

Rachel kisses her softly, lingering a while. "Baby, you already have."

Quinn ducks her head, adorably embarrassed. "Let me give us a home," she says. "We can work out everything else once we're where we're supposed to be."

Rachel studies her face for the longest time, searching for something. Quinn can't tell if she actually finds it, but she eventually says, "I don't know if it's you, or if it's me, but I can't shake the feeling this thing between us is going to last forever."

Quinn raises her eyebrows. "Why would you want to shake it?" she asks, genuinely curious.

Rachel sighs. "This kind of thing doesn't happen, Quinn. Life doesn't work that way. We don't just get to be happy."

"Why not?"

"It can't be this easy."

"Who said it's going to be easy?" Quinn presses. "We have so much to figure out."

"Then, why are you even pledging to do something as crazy as this?"

"Because I love you," Quinn says. "And, all that stuff we have to figure out, I would much rather do it while I'm by your side than not."

Rachel sighs. "There you go again," she pouts; "just saying all the right things."

"My words are one thing," Quinn says. "Tell me if I've proved myself to you in all the other ways that are important."

"You have," Rachel says, cupping her cheek. "My God, you have."

Quinn just smiles at her, soft and gentle, so much affection in her gaze.

Rachel kisses the tip of her nose. "So, you love me, huh?"

"So damn much."

"Good," Rachel quips; "that means _you_ can be the one to tell my parents."

* * *

Hugo seems undisturbed by news of the move, and Lex just wrinkles his nose in what could be considered disgust if he were any other child. While she and Rachel have made sure to be transparent with their plans to move, this is the moment they've confirmed the _where_ it in all its glory.

"New York?" Lex asks, drawing the words out, and Rachel shoots Quinn a confused look.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Balou is from Boston," she explains. "The woman hates New York, and so her godson has to have misgivings, as well."

Rachel chuckles.

Quinn looks at at Lex. "I'm sure you can still be a _Red Sox_ fan, even if you live in New York, Lexington."

Lex seems to consider this, and then nods. "Okay."

Both women look at Hugo, who merely shrugs. "Am I going to my old school?"

"No," Quinn answers. "It's a new one. Near where we're going to live." Because Quinn has found them a pair of houses from which to choose in their desired neighbourhood. She's not keen on signing any final documents sight unseen, but the second one is a bit of a fixer upper, and she's trying to convince Rachel to take a chance on it.

It's not going so well.

The last thing Rachel wants is to move into some kind of project, so Quinn thinks she's probably going to be losing this battle.

Anyway.

She's sure she'll be able to find something to do in their potential house. Quinn asked if Rachel knew anyone in New York who would be able to go and see the house for them, and she's made a handful of calls.

They're just waiting on a phone call, before Quinn puts in an offer. An offer that Rachel isn't entirely comfortable with, at the moment. Apparently, buying a house, full-cash, is just insane, but Quinn wouldn't ever admit to being entirely sound of mind.

There's just a part of her that believes in this. She believes in them, as a family and as a couple, and they're going to make it. They are. So, Quinn is willing to take this leap, and she's hoping Rachel will step onto the dance floor with her.

Rachel taps Quinn's knee, gesturing towards Lex, who is seated on a couch cushion and looking rather small, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Hey, Baby Shark," Quinn says, getting Lex's attention. "You okay?"

Lex nods, still looking thoughtful.

"What's up?"

Lex gets to his feet and moves to stand in front of her. "Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Will I still get to paint my room?"

Quinn, admittedly, is relieved that's his question. "Of course," she says, and then looks at Hugo. "You'll both get to pick and design your own bedrooms. It'll be our little projects."

Rachel looks at her with an expression that says _well, there you go; you wanted a project, and now you have one_.

Quinn just rolls her eyes, and then looks at the boys. "So, New York, huh?"

Both Hugo and Lex grin, almost matching.

"New York," Rachel confirms.

Huh.

* * *

LeRoy and Hiram almost don't take it well.

As definitely not agreed, Quinn is the one to tell them, the younger couple sitting them down at the kitchen table while the children watch television in the living room and letting them know they're moving to New York.

Hiram is stunned, and LeRoy looks a little shocked. Quinn tries not to read too much into the fact they too were content to see Rachel Berry settle here for the rest of her life, when she's got so much still to give the world.

"Oh," Hiram finally says.

LeRoy blinks. "You're definitely going?"

Rachel nods, her hand loosely holding Quinn's. "We're definitely going," she confirms.

"When?"

"Sunday."

Hiram sucks in a breath. "That's… soon."

Rachel nods, because it really is. "Quinn will come back once we're all settled," she explains. "Just to handle whatever needs to be handled."

LeRoy shakes his head, as if he's trying to clear it. "And, you're sure about this?"

"I'm very sure," she says, her voice strong. "We're both very sure."

Quinn nods in solidarity. She _is_ sure.

"Well, then," Hiram says. "That's great news, right? It is great news? How are the boys taking it?"

"Really well," Rachel answers. "I'm a little surprised, to be honest, but definitely relieved." She breathes out. "I think Hugo misses it, anyway."

Hiram looks at Quinn. "And Lex?"

"He's a soldier," she says. "We face things as they come."

They have many more questions, and Quinn tries to pay as much attention as she can manage. It's odd, watching as Rachel has to explain her decision to her parents. Quinn hasn't had to do that for years. Her own parents didn't care what she did beyond her getting into Yale. Quinn didn't care what they thought, either, willingly doing her own thing and not bothering to inform them.

Then, well, they washed their hands of her, and Quinn hasn't looked back since. She hasn't had a single person to answer to - other than Lex - since then, and watching Rachel with her fathers makes her so deeply uncomfortable, because Rachel is her own person and her own woman and an actual mother.

She thinks maybe that's what it's like to have parents who actually care about their child. It's just, well, they _do_ know Rachel is an adult, right?

"Do you think I could have a word with you, alone?"

Quinn snaps to attention, realising LeRoy is actually speaking to her. "Excuse me?"

"A word," LeRoy says, getting to his feet.

Quinn raises her eyebrows in surprise, but stands as well, her hand slipping from Rachel's, parting with a final squeeze. She feels eyes on her back as she walks out of the room behind LeRoy, following him out onto the back deck.

Quinn doesn't say anything when he comes to a stop, and she's resigned to wait him out. She suspects what this could be about, but she's also trying not to jump to any type of conclusion.

"She's my baby girl," LeRoy eventually says. "I have watched her grow and blossom and struggle. She has fought hard and worked hard. She's succeeded and failed, been hurt and lost. She's - she's very special, Quinn."

Quinn knows that.

"Life hasn't been entirely kind to her," he says. "We worried so much when she was in New York, and we worry still, even having her under our noses. The idea of her leaving again is terrifying." He looks at Quinn. "Do you have her best interests in mind? Will you love and care for those children? Do you realise this isn't something she'll easily recover from if it doesn't work out? Do you accept this responsibility?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow, bristling slightly, because what the hell is this? "With all due respect, Sir," she says; "but is this a conversation you had with Brody?"

LeRoy looks away, saying nothing, which is answer enough.

"I love your daughter," Quinn says. "Maybe it's enough, maybe it's not. All I know is there isn't anything you can say to me I don't already know. I can make promises until I'm blue in the face, which I would do if I thought it would mean anything. We're planning on building a life together. A family." She clears her throat. "My intention is to give her the world. If she'll let me."

"She probably won't," LeRoy says.

Quinn laughs softly. "Then I'll help her reach for it herself."

* * *

The plan is relatively simple. The five of them will fly out from Columbus on Sunday, taking a limited amount of things and leaving everything else for further transport when the house is ready and waiting.

Rachel prepares them for all of it, getting the boys involved in packing boxes for the movers that Quinn will fly back to supervise in a few weeks. She makes comprehensive lists of what's staying and what's going, cataloguing all their furniture and compiling more lists of what they'll need to purchase once they're in New York.

Once they get the go-ahead from Rachel's friend in New York, Tina, Quinn sends through a formal offer on their chosen house, going in a few thousand under asking price. It's a lot of money for a lot of house, and Quinn makes her own plans for tailoring the house to their every need.

It's all so new and exciting, and Rachel drags her into a rather compromising position in the laundry room when their offer is accepted. Quinn barely has time to register what's happening before Rachel is clawing at her clothing and telling her how much she's wanted and how she's loved.

It's quick and dirty, and Rachel says, "Now, we couldn't leave this house without christening this room at least once," after all is said and done.

Quinn nods a little dumbly. "God," she breathes; "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

They christen the room a second time.

And a third.

* * *

Saturday morning is spent having pancakes at Rose's, mainly because the house is largely already packed up and there will be no more actual cooking occurring again. It's also a little farewell of sorts, to say goodbye to Marley and the rest of the staff.

"You're leaving?" Marley asks, her eyes a little wide as she stares at the combined family.

Quinn nods, smiling gently. "The way I hear it, you're making your way out of here pretty soon, as well."

Marley sighs. "That's an entire year away," she says. "And that's only if I can scrape together the funds."

"Well, we believe in you," Rachel says.

"We really do," Lex adds.

Marley looks a little teary as she takes their final order, and then floats away. Quinn glances at Rachel, who also looks a little misty-eyed.

"Are you crying?" Quinn asks.

"No."

Quinn just hands her a paper napkin, and then rests a hand on her knee under the table.

Rachel smiles at her. "Thank you."

Quinn will admit to being a little emotional, as well. Rose's Diner is one of the highlights of Lima for her, and she finds she's going to miss this little slice of comfort.

And Marley, who seems like the most genuine person in this place. Quinn wishes the world for her, because it's obvious her dreams are beyond this town. If Quinn is willing to risk as much as she is to help Rachel reach her dreams, then she thinks she could do a little bit more to help Marley, as well.

Which is why, after endless pancakes and teary farewells, Quinn sends Rachel and the boys to the car while she settles the check. It's something she's had planned, sure, but she doesn't want anyone other than Marley to know. Quinn is all about making dreams come true.

Quinn removes an envelope from her back pocket, her hands shaking slightly. She knows what it's like, even though it's a little different. To have to find your own way, and fight for it.

She just wants to give Marley her best chance, and it's coming in the form of a rather large tip, which should help her college fund. Quinn slips the envelope into the little booklet with their food payment, and then gets to her feet and leaves.

If she rushes, well, she hopes nobody notices.

Rachel and the boys are already in the car, which is great for her, because they're already out of sight when Marley comes stumbling out of the diner, eyes wide and teary, facial expression one of shock.

And gratitude.

* * *

Quinn thinks she might have been prepared for travelling with three children and a hell of a lot of luggage, but she's really not.

It's an exhausting endeavour.

Rachel's fathers accompany them to Columbus in two cars, piled with their suitcases. They're going to oversee the movers when they come to collect the first batch of their belongings for the new house, and Quinn will handle the second load when she returns to Lima.

The farewell at the airport is an emotional one, with Hiram and Rachel both shedding a few tears and Hugo being a little clingy. But they're eventually off on their newest adventure, and Quinn can only hope no actual regret starts to sink in. That would be devastating.

Rachel tells her she loves her every few minutes, as if she can recognise that Quinn is probably wishing they'd shipped the children with their furniture. She doesn't, not really, but Max isn't handling the flight well, and Quinn has a fleeting thought that she could do with some nutmeg right about now.

Rachel just kisses her cheek again, tells her she loves her, and, by some miracle, they manage to land in New York, disembark and get to their hotel suite with their relationship still intact.

Rachel even makes fun of her for her obvious relief. Max is cranky and Hugo is weirdly excited, and Lex won't stop asking questions. Three children.

Three children.

Quinn almost tells Rachel they're not having any more, but that would be -

Well, Quinn's not sure that's something one can drop into casual conversation with a woman one's been dating for -

Then again, they're moving to New York together, to build a life and family, so Quinn shouldn't feel apprehensive about talking about their future. It's just a lot.

It's a hell of a lot.

"No regrets, right?" Rachel asks her, late at night, when the children are asleep and she's managed to crawl into bed without snapping at someone.

Quinn sighs, opening up her body and inviting Rachel into her space. "No regrets," she confirms. And then, because she just wants Rachel to smile, she says, "But, I swear, if my kid ends up a _Yankees_ fan, I'm going to cry."

Rachel laughs softly, lifting her head to kiss Quinn's chin. "Louisa's close enough to make sure that never happens."

Quinn grins. "I can't wait to surprise them," she says. "They're going to freak out. Blue might even kill me."

"Because it's New York?"

Quinn nods, and then says, "I have no regrets," again. "Do you?"

Rachel kisses her mouth. "Not a single one."

* * *

Quinn, admittedly, wasn't sure how she would feel returning to this particular precinct after the amount of memories it holds. Not just about Louisa, but about Blair. Quinn believes she's largely over the relationship - she's too happy with what she has now not to be - but the sting of the end still lingers.

The Twelfth Precinct is bustling when she and Lex arrive, greeting Sergeant Wilkinson with excited smiles. She's definitely pleased to see Lex, giving him a high-five and asking him how he's enjoying his summer.

He's loving it, apparently.

"Is Detective Stone in?" Quinn asks, feeling a little strange using Louisa's title. But, she's earned it, and it deserves to be used.

"Should be at her desk," Sergeant Wilkinson says. "You remember where it is?"

"I do," Lex declares.

"He does," Quinn echoes, smiling indulgently. "Can we head on through?"

"Sure thing," she says.

Quinn shoots her one more smile, and then allows Lex to lead her away, through the bustling bullpen towards where they both know Louisa's desk is. It's a simple visit, meant to surprise their favourite redhead. Quinn hasn't mentioned their trip to New York, or even their intention to live there.

It's all part of the surprise.

Except, well, it's _Quinn_ who ends up getting the surprise of her life. Because there's Louisa, casually sitting in her chair, feet resting on her desk and looking at someone sitting on said desk; _smiling_ at said someone.

Said someone who Quinn would recognise anywhere.

Louisa sees them first, her feet dropping with a thud and her eyes widening. "Quinn?" she croaks, face suddenly pale.

Said someone turns, then, and Quinn is convinced she's going to be sick.

Lex freezes in front of her, and she just manages not to bump into him. "Blair?"

* * *

Quinn asks Sergeant Wilkinson to keep Lex occupied behind the front desk, because there are just things a young boy should never see his mother say or do.

Kill her best friend is one of them.

Quinn is angry and hurt and feeling betrayed and a lot confused, and _what the hell is Blair doing here, Louisa_?

Louisa's still wincing - whether from the question or the sound of her actual name, Quinn doesn't know.

"She's back," Louisa explains, watching as Quinn paces the little interrogation room they've commandeered. "I didn't think you'd want to know."

"Bullshit," Quinn snaps, and they both know she's right.

"Fine, yeah, maybe I should have told you she got back from assignment, but what good would it have done?" Louisa asks. "You called me saying you were happy and in love, and I was not going to derail that by telling you she was back."

Quinn can maybe accept that, but there's a lingering thought that Louisa didn't tell Quinn because she was expecting Quinn never to find out. And, God, the idea of Blair being back, here and at work with Louisa, and not even caring that Quinn and Lex weren't even in the city anymore... fuck, that hurts.

"How long has she been back?" Quinn demands.

"Does it matter?"

"How long?"

Louisa sighs. "I don't know," she says; "a couple of weeks."

Quinn's jaw clenches. "And?"

"And what?"

Quinn feels unsettled. She wants not to care, but she does. She wants to ask. She needs to ask, but she doesn't think she's strong enough to handle the idea that Blair arrived back in New Haven and didn't even ask after them. It would devastate her, and she hates that she's still this affected.

God.

"Quinn?" Louisa prompts.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now," Quinn says, her voice tense. "You should have told me."

Louisa looks at her, an unreadable expression on her face. "You've been through a lot of shit this year, Q," she says. "I'm sorry if you believe the fact I kept her away from you is some kind of betrayal."

"No!" Quinn snaps. "Don't pretend this was about me at all."

"What?"

"You were smiling at her," Quinn accuses. "You _like_ having her back, after - after everything she - "

"Quinn," Louisa interrupts a little harshly. "She was my friend long before she was your girlfriend."

Quinn freezes, because that's not something she ever expected Louisa to say to her. Because Louisa was there for the aftermath; she watched Quinn and Lex struggle with the loss; sat there and listened to Quinn vent and cry and vow that Blair was the worst. And yet. "Oh."

Louisa immediately realises she's said the wrong thing, and she struggles to backtrack. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Like what?" Quinn asks, and then shakes her head, because it doesn't even matter. She's not doing this now. "Whatever. You're obviously busy with work or whatever it was you were doing. Leo and I should let you get back to it."

"Quinn, I - "

Quinn turns abruptly and swings open the door, unable to steady herself. She was fine. She _is_ fine. She's happy and in love and she wants nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with Rachel, but even she can't ignore the fact she's shaken. Blair is back. That's something she knew would happen eventually, but she never quite allowed herself to think about what it would mean.

Quinn stalks through the bullpen, hating every person she sees, because they all probably know. They know who she is, and who Blair is and what happened, and yet they allowed her to walk into here unprepared.

Quinn marches to the front desk to retrieve Lex and get the hell out of here, but she halts at the sight of Blair standing and talking to Lex, who is telling her something rather excitedly. Her stomach churns at the sight, and she wants nothing more than to snatch her son away and run.

Run as far away from this place as possible. Exactly what she did the first time and what she knows she'll do again and again. She's been in toxic situations before, but she didn't know it was toxic until she was out of it.

She's supposed to have moved on, and, for the most part, she has. Just, there's a lot tied to Blair that Quinn's never really taken the time to deal with. So, no, she's really not okay with seeing Blair at all, let alone with her son.

When Lex spots her, he stops talking immediately, guilt in his eyes. He's always been with her, in her corner, and he knows what happened after Blair. They left the damn state.

Quinn doesn't even know what to say.

Lex ducks around Blair and moves towards Quinn. "Are we leaving?"

Quinn nods. "Do you have everything?"

Lex slips his hand into hers, anchoring her, and asks, "Do I also have to be angry with Aunt Lou?"

Quinn clenches her jaw and closes her eyes, her rage giving way to shame and confusion and so many other things she can't even put into words. "Of course not," she says, and releases his hand. "Go and say bye, okay? I'll meet you at the front."

Lex gives her one last uncertain look, and then takes off to somewhere behind her.

Quinn stands perfectly still, trying to get ahold of herself.

"Hello, Lucy."

Quinn turns her gaze to the right, where Blair is standing, her body screaming confidence, but her features hesitant. "I told you not to call me that," she says.

Blair shrugs. "I've never been good at doing what I'm told."

Quinn has a sarcastic remark sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she holds it in. She likes to think she's matured, but perhaps she hasn't as much as she should have.

"It's good to see you," Blair says. "Louisa wouldn't tell me where you'd gone."

Quinn tenses at the mention of Louisa, just wondering what it is about the entire situation that makes her so uncomfortable. Louisa and Jane have always been her found family, and she can't shake the feeling she's managed to lose that in some way.

Is it her fault? Because she moved. Because she found Rachel.

"Lex sounds happy," Blair points out, and Quinn wishes she wouldn't talk about her son.

Her son, who Blair made promises to, and just never kept. It's always played on Quinn's mind, and she wonders if Blair cares about that at all.

"I meant to contact you," Blair says. "After I left, I mean. Just to..." she trails off. "Well, I'm not sure what I was going to say. Sorry, maybe. Explain why I had to do this, for my career. For my future in the department."

It strikes Quinn then that, yes, Blair chose her career over Quinn and Lex, and Quinn is the one who made her. It bothers her that she wasn't willing to wait however long it took for Blair to make a name for herself. Was that selfish of Quinn? Maybe. Does she regret it? Not really.

Quinn's learned a lot about herself since then.

"Are you happy?" Blair suddenly asks.

Quinn looks at her, seeing a woman she spent a good chunk of time loving and barely recognising her. "Would you even want me to be?" she asks, genuinely curious.

"I want to say yes," Blair confesses. "That it shouldn't matter to me that you've managed to find a way to be happy without me."

Quinn bristles at the audacity of her. "Are _you_ happy?" she asks in return.

"No," Blair answers with no hesitation. "Without you, how can I be?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow. "I thought a step up in the department was all you ever wanted, Detective Ricci," she says, merely an echo of the words Blair once yelled at her during one of their more colourful fights.

"I thought so, too," Blair says, and the look in her eyes is significant.

Quinn steps back.

Oh.

That's why Louisa never told her about Blair.

Well, it's probably part of it.

"It's really good to see you," Blair says, her voice dropping in volume.

Quinn shakes her head. She can't quite bring herself to say the same. Blair has always been a hurricane, and Quinn can't help wondering if she's stepped right into the eye of the storm.

Thankfully, Lex chooses that moment to return, a reluctant Louisa in tow. Quinn can barely look at her, so her eyes remain on Lex.

"Ready to go?" she asks him.

"Are we going to see Aunt Jane?"

Quinn audibly swallows. "That's the plan," she says. "It was meant to be a surprise."

"She'll be surprised," Louisa says, her tone careful. "She'll also be happy to see you."

Quinn suppresses her snarky reply. Instead, she reaches for Lex's hand. "Let's get out of here, Baby Shark."

Blair says, "I'll be seeing you," as Quinn turns away, and Louisa says, "No, you won't," in response.

Quinn ignores them both.

What the fuck?

* * *

Jane is happy to see them.

_And_ surprised.

The beauty of working from home is Quinn and Lex can just show up and expect to find no actual further surprises. Which is a damn relief. Quinn doesn't think she can handle anything else.

Quinn isn't sure she's willing to find out if Jane also knows about Blair, but she's sure she figures it out just from Jane's reaction to the news she and Lex first stopped by the precinct.

"Oh?"

"Oh, indeed."

Jane stirs some sugar into her tea. "Is that why you look so frowny?"

Quinn gives her a blank look. "If you knew as well, then I'm also mad at you."

"No, you're not," Jane says. "And, frankly, if you're going to be mad at anyone, it should be at just me. I'm the one who told Lou not to tell you."

Quinn sighs, having figured that out for herself, because, as much as Louisa is assertive in her job, her marriage is very different. "Why?"

"Because we love you," Jane says. "We love you, and Lou has a warped sense of loyalty most days."

"She told me Blair was her friend long before she was ever my girlfriend," Quinn says, and her voice comes out smaller than she intends.

Jane's features soften in understanding. "No wonder you're so frowny," she says, pushing off the kitchen island and stepping into Quinn's space. "Like I said: warped sense of loyalty."

Quinn blinks. "She's not picking her?"

"Of course not."

Quinn keeps her gaze lowered. "It felt like it."

"She's Louisa," Jane says. "She's weird and crazy, but you and Lex are her family just as much as Chris and me." She presses her fingers to Quinn's sternum, glancing over her shoulder at where Lex and Christine are watching cartoons and blissfully unaware. "We are her family. You are my family. Blair is none of those things."

Quinn licks her lips. "I want Rachel to be."

"What?"

She clears her throat. "Rachel," she says, deciding this entire conversation requires the use of Rachel's actual name. "Hugo and Max. I want them to be my family."

Jane stares at her for the longest moment. "You want to marry her."

"She has to get divorced first but, one day, yes."

"Is that why you're here? To talk about it?"

"Well," Quinn says, blushing slightly; "I might have just done something crazy."

"Did you already propose?" Jane squeals.

"What? No."

"Oh."

Quinn wrings her fingers together. "I don't know if this is better or worse than that, but we've moved to New York. Together. We bought a house."

Jane's mouth drops open.

Quinn chuckles at her expression. "Crazy, huh?"

Jane shakes her head in disbelief. "A little, yeah," she agrees, but she's smiling. "Are you ready for that?"

Quinn doesn't hesitate at all when she says, "Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

Jane says, "You know, when Louisa first told me Rachel was married, I was convinced you would run for the hills," and Quinn says, "I never even considered it."

Jane says, "I figured Rachel would have told you earlier," and Quinn says, "She definitely tried to, a handful of times."

Jane says, "It was so hard not just making sure you knew, when you were talking about your feelings for her in Bellafonte," and Quinn says, "How would - why would - did you - "

Jane says, "Quinn," and Quinn says, "You kept _that_ from me, too?"

Jane says, "_Quinn_," but Quinn is already walking away.

* * *

Lex falls asleep on the train back to New York, his head resting on her upper arm, and Quinn uses the opportunity to think long and hard about what she wants out of her life.

Just out of the next few weeks, really.

It's simple.

Rachel, Hugo, Max and Lex.

A completed book.

An idea.

A happy family.

A safe home.

So many things.

She's still thinking about it when they pull into Grand Central Station, finding Rachel, Hugo and Max waiting for them with excited smiles and happy hugs. Quinn's heart does something when she sees them, and her eyes burn with the realisation that this life is hers.

Rachel kisses her, right there in the middle of their platform, and Quinn loves her so much. _Loves them_.

"Let's go home," Quinn says, taking Max from Rachel and getting them moving.

"Home," Rachel echoes sceptically. "The one that has no furniture."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "It has less effect if I say hotel," she says.

"Let's go to the hotel," Rachel says, and then frowns. "Damn, you're right."

Quinn grins at her.

"Let's go home."

* * *

Later, after they've put the boys to sleep and crawled into their own bed, Quinn says, "I need to talk to you about something."

Rachel sits against the headboard, her phone in her hand. "Let me just send this off to my Dad," she says; "then I'm all yours."

"You're all mine," Quinn echoes softly, turning that thought over in her mind. It's been a rather emotional day, and she's choosing her battles carefully. She'll deal with all the Louisa and Jane stuff later.

Now, though, she needs to deal with what Blair has brought up for her, and what it means for her relationship with Rachel.

Rachel finishes off her text, sets her alarm, and then gives Quinn her full attention. "There's something on your mind," she says. "Is everything okay?"

Quinn nods once. "It's nothing pertinent, not really, but it's something to say."

"I'm listening."

Quinn takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. "I did the right thing," she says. "I made the right choices, and I regret nothing, but I think I made them for the wrong reasons."

Rachel sits, quiet and patient, because it really is obvious something has been on her mind since their return from New Haven. Even Lex seemed a little subdued, and Rachel deserves to know why.

"I want you to be happy," Quinn says. "I also promised my son I would do everything in my power to make sure you stay."

Rachel's brow furrows, clearly unsure what Quinn is getting at.

"Blair chose her career over us," Quinn says. "She accused me of holding her back; of stopping her from reaching her dreams, all because I wouldn't agree to letting her go for an undercover assignment that could have ended up being a year long." Her eyes grow distant. "She left, anyway. In the middle of the night. I woke to an empty bed, and I couldn't - sometimes still can't - get over the fact someone who was supposed to love me could do that.

"When I told Baby about dating you, he was worried," Quinn says. "He was worried you would leave us too, if it didn't work out. That you would leave _him_, and so I promised him I would do everything in my power to make sure you stayed."

Rachel blinks, looking unsure.

"I can't bear the thought of being someone to hold you back," Quinn says. "And maybe that's why I pushed so much for this move. Did I? Did I force you?"

"Of course not," Rachel answers. "If anything, I forced myself, and I'm glad I did. I already feel like it was the right decision. I just had to get here, and you've given me the confidence and safety to reach for it."

Quinn looks helpless. "I - I could have given that to her," she says. "I don't want to make the same mistakes with you as I did with her."

"You won't."

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Quinn says firmly. "I don't care where we are or what we're doing, I just want to be with you and our family." She drops her gaze for a moment. "I want to work _with_ you, and I don't want to be a person who gives you the kind of ultimatum you have to take."

"Quinn," she breathes.

"I love you," Quinn says. "I love you, and I don't ever want us to be apart. I don't ever want to let you go. But - but, I would, if that's what you needed, and I think I get the difference now. I mean, I always knew, subconsciously, but I understand it better. I wasn't willing to make that sacrifice for Blair and she took it anyway, but I would for you. In a heartbeat. I mean, I'm not saying that moving to New York is any kind of sacrifice, really, but I did it and I would do it over and over again, because you're different. We're different, and - "

"Quinn?"

Her eyes snap up, a little wide. "Yes?"

"I love you, too," Rachel says. "And, as lovely as this entire speech is, I just need to clarify that this isn't leading to some kind of breakup, right?"

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Of course not," she says, sounding almost petulant. "It's possibly headed in the other direction, though."

Rachel just stares at her.

Quinn smiles softly, her features giving away her affection, adoration and love.

Rachel clears her throat. "Again, I think I need the clarification because I could be reading this completely wrong, but this isn't a proposal, either, is it?"

Quinn falters slightly, but her smile is still present.

"Oh."

Quinn just leans forward to kiss her gently, and it is perfect. Everything is perfect. "Whenever you're ready, Rachel," she says, the sound of her name like music from Quinn's lips. "Whenever you're ready."

* * *

_Fin_

* * *

**AN**: There will be a sequel. I couldn't just leave it there, with so many things unresolved. I don't know when it's coming, but it will. Cool. Thanks for reading and all the other good stuff.


End file.
